


Every Witch Way But Up

by mklutz



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gumiho - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Tanuki, Murder Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Seer, Toronto, Urban Fantasy, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 89,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mklutz/pseuds/mklutz
Summary: (Revised)On a terrible blind date courtesy of her baby-crazy father, Blago encountered a dead body. As a witch with no training, no familiar, and no interest in the guy who insisted he walk her home, it seemed to Blago like the perfect out.Instead, she wound up coerced into investigating a serial killer intent on sucking the magic out of members of Toronto’s magical community, including one of Blago’s friends.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	1. The Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read this before, I've rewritten and revised it completely with lots of help from Chelsea Outlaw! Different killer, much longer story, hopefully more fun. :)

Blago had been trying to end the date for thirty minutes without success when a dead body did it for her.

It wasn’t the first blind date her father, eternally hopeful, had set her up on, but if Blago had her way it would absolutely be the last. Marcus had begrudgingly agreed to meet her at a sushi place near High Park in the west end. He was tall, with very well-coiffed hair and an artificially white smile. When he arrived, fifteen minutes late and without an apology, he immediately made a face and asked the server if they served anything cooked instead of raw. It had continued downhill from there.

By the time their food had arrived, Blago knew that Marcus had an inflated sense of his own role at police headquarters, where he ran their social media, thought raw fish gave people brain infections — they didn’t. Then the conversation pivoted to hobbies and he mentioned he would be attending a party under a bridge that weekend. “I’m really into this nouveau-street scene,” he explained. “It might be too edgy for you.”

When Blago went to the bathroom, he put down cash for his half of the bill— sans tip. Blago tripled her own tip to make up for it, and planned to part ways at the exit, never to see Marcus again.

Marcus had other ideas. “I’ll walk you home,” he said. “I’m a gentleman, after all.”

“Oh, no that’s okay,” Blago had fumbled. “It’s far. I was going to grab the streetcar.”

“On a night like this? No way.” The sky was clear and dark, the air warm, and to her left, the CN Tower light show cycled through a rainbow of colours.

If not for the company, a walk home would have been ideal. Instead, Marcus looped his arm through hers, even though she had kept it straight down by her side and started walking, forcing her to follow.

“Did I tell you I’m in a band?” he continued as Blago fruitlessly tried to slip her arm free of his. “I write all of our songs. They’re based on the stuff I see and hear at work, really dark police stuff.”

Blago interjected several times when he paused for breath, or they passed a streetcar or subway stop. Marcus either didn’t hear her or, more likely, didn’t care. He was too busy listening to himself talk. Blago contemplated several options for how to kill her father.

When they approached University Avenue, almost two-thirds of the way back to Blago’s apartment, the intersection was blocked off with police barricades, tape, and flashing lights. Marcus, distracted by the activity, paused, his arm slack, and Blago finally pulled free. A slick, dark energy oozed out from the traffic island in the centre of University. Blago hadn’t ever felt anything like it before. She stood on tiptoe to try and see over the heads of other people stopped outside the Campbell House Museum even as the hair on her arms stood up.

“Maybe we should go another way,” Marcus said weakly.

It was the first interesting thing he’d said all night. Blago turned to look at him. “I thought you saw ‘really dark police stuff’ all the time at work?” In the blue and red strobe he looked paler than he had in the restaurant. “Come on, let’s get closer.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him through the crowd, closer to the wrought-iron fence that lined the edge of the museum property.

The Campbell House Museum, a two-story brick Georgian house, had been part of the city since the 1800s and moved in the 1970s. Despite the move, a dense system of magical roots dug deep into the ground, anchoring it to Osgoode Hall on the east side of the street. Blago had always associated the structure with a sort of weighty, sturdy energy. It reminded her of her mother, when mother had been alive. Stable, serious. Stubborn.

When she got right up to the fence though, the slick dark energy of something wrong came into focus. It spilled wide across the lawn and cobble walkway, and a body covered in a dark sheet lay stretched diagonally under the tall tree that marked the corner of the property.

“Oh god. Is that a dead body?” Marcus whined. Blago ignored him.

An officer stood up from where she crouched nearby, her foot accidentally jostling the sheet. The movement exposed a man’s left hand, dirt-smudged but smooth; a younger man.

“I, you know what, I’ve gotta-- gotta go.” Marcus pulled free of Blago’s grip and raised one hand to cover his mouth. “I’ll uh, text you or whatever.” He stumbled backwards into the crowd without waiting for a response.

She wouldn’t hold her breath waiting for that text.

Instead, Blago turned back to the cordoned-off lawn and fumbled for her phone, not taking her eyes off the sheet-covered body. There was something really, really wrong here.

“Blago?” Elżbeta picked up on the third ring. “It’s awfully late, dear, are you okay?” The old woman sounded half asleep, her usually frail voice slightly foggier.

“Sorry if I woke you. I’m okay, but there’s a dead body at University and Queen. I think it might be a problem your friends in government would want to know about.”

“Chimera?” Elżbeta asked. Blago didn’t have a lot to do with the local magical government, despite Elżbeta’s regular request that she attend a meeting or accept an introduction to some of the people involved. “Did you say a body?”

Blago swallowed, her eyes still fixed on the body even as the officer readjusted the sheet. “Elżbeta, I think someone was murdered.”

***

They weren’t related, but Elżbeta was the closest Blago had to a grandmother, or what she imagined a grandmother to be. She had welcomed Blago to the neighbourhood when she first opened her magic shop and remained a calming, sensible presence ever since.

After Blago had explained the situation more clearly, Elżbeta thought for a moment. “I will inform Chimera, of course, but Blago the most important thing is that you get home safe. Have you called Lau?”

“Not yet.” Her best friend was smart and focused, but like Blago she didn’t have much to do with the official side of the magical community. She wouldn’t have known who to contact the way Elżbeta did.

“Do that. I would feel better knowing you two were together tonight. I’ll stop by the shop in the morning.”

Blago agreed and hung up. She let herself be swallowed up by the crowd and, once past it, continued north-east. Her phone rang before she hit Yonge Street.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Don’t freak out,” Blago said instead of greeting Lau properly.

“Are you okay?” Lau asked immediately.

As a seer, Lau specialized in sensing death. As a best friend, she specialized in worrying about and keeping Blago out of trouble. “I’m fine,” Blago reassured her. “But uh, do you think you could come over tonight?”

Lau sighed. “I’m already on my way.”

***

Contrary to her voice on the phone, where she had sounded almost annoyed, Lau arrived with the tea she drank when she had trouble shutting out the world and two orders of fresh sfoglia from the Drake Mini Bar— a mutual favourite. Despite the late hour, she looked as well pressed and put together as always, her red hair swept back from her face in a loose bun and dressed in a bright linen shift dress.

Blago parked herself behind the counter, her back safely tucked into a corner and her eyes on the large windows out front. Despite the late hour, foot traffic up and down Yonge street hadn’t slowed, and she looked away only to watch Lau lock the door again.

“Do we need to kill the guy your dad set you up with?” Lau asked. “You said you were okay, but you look…” she trailed off.

“No, it’s not that.” Blago shook her head and accepted her order of sfoglia. The pasta-pastry had a sweet-sharp citrus taste, bright and cheerful on the tip of her tongue, and Blago sat up straighter, immediately revived.

Lau waited for her to finish the pastry before she demanded answers.

Slowly, Blago explained the situation as best she could. “I sort of wish you had been there. Except, well, I wouldn’t want you to feel that… whatever it was.” She shivered.

“I’d rather be with you,” Lau said after a moment. “You should still be careful. Call me, next time. Did Elżbeta know anything?”

“She was going to call someone at Chimera. They’ll probably handle it.”

Lau gathered up their takeout containers back into the bag and stood. “Well, then, we’ll have a sleepover and tomorrow it will be someone else’s problem. Come on, I’ll make tea.”

Gratefully, Blago followed her best friend up the stairs to her little apartment and did her best to put the night out of her mind.

***

The rabid dog’s initial attack had taken even the hunger by surprise. They’d escaped to safety, which was enough for the host, but the hunger roiled inside, unsettled by the attack. It wanted to prevent a repeat. They circled back.

Instead of finding the creature licking his wounds, it had already set off across the city, twitchy and incoherent, fingers shifted into claws as though the dim light of a summer evening would keep the public from noticing.

Put him down, the hunger whispered. You’ll be doing these people a favour.

Of course, the hunger only wanted to feed. But that didn’t mean it was wrong.

***

The next morning came too bright and too early. Blago’s phone blared out the obnoxious ringtone she’d set for her dad, and she had slapped haphazardly at the decline button, switched the ringer to vibrate, and passed out again.

When she woke again much later in the afternoon, she had a voicemail from him asking her out for lunch or a snack.

Lau, her hair mussed and fuzzy against the other pillow, squinted blearily at Blago as she played the message out loud. “He hasn’t learned how to text yet?”

“He has, he just prefers voicemail because he’s old.” Blago sighed and sent him a text saying she could do froyo in an hour if he had some free time. He would’ve preferred the fancy ice cream place a little further from his office at police headquarters, but she only had one parent left and froyo seemed like a safer option for the long term. “Want to join us?”

“I’ll watch the store instead,” Lau offered. “You can’t just close up any time you feel like it, you know. People like regular hours so they know they can stop in and grab something.”

Blago hummed noncommittally and rolled out of bed. As technically the only employee, Blago didn’t see that changing any time soon. “You want the shower first?”

“You can have it,” Lau said directly into the pillow. “One of us has to make coffee and you do it wrong.”

“Can’t do it wrong if there’s no way to do it right!”

She deserved the pillow Lau threw after her.

***

A dead bird lay awkwardly across the pavement outside the shop in near-perfect condition, ruffled slightly, a few stray feathers around it, but otherwise unmarked. One wing pointed to the door, like a macabre welcome mat, the other across and down the street.

Blago checked the front windows, but didn’t see any marks from where it might have flown into them. She would have preferred not to read anything into it, but after the night before, it seemed an obviously bad omen.

She scraped it off the sidewalk with a dustpan, carefully placed it in the green bin around back of the shop and washed her hands twice all while trying not to think about it. The bird could be future Blago’s problem – current Blago had to rush to meet her father.

But even as she stepped out into the busy crowds along the street, the image of the dead bird circled through her mind, refusing to leave.

***

Blago didn’t seem to take after either of her parents closely. Her mother had been tall and dark, with long hair and darker eyes. Her father looked nearly the opposite: average height, light hair, pale eyes. Somehow, Blago had come out looking like a watered-down version of neither, with mouse-brown hair, a perpetual tan, and eyes somewhere between the two.

She found him along the back wall, where the pumps were arrayed in a semi-circle behind the cash, sample cup of key lime in hand and a blissful expression on his face. “Don’t forget what your doctor said.” Blago greeted him and took a full-sized cup of her own. “You’re not getting any younger.”

“If I’m getting so old, you should get married and give me some grandkids before I’m too decrepit to enjoy them,” he muttered in return. A familiar line of complaint. Blago ignored him.

The froyo place had served as an auto shop in the eighties, and the bones were still the same under the brightly coloured paint and pop music. The store front’s massive garage door had been pulled up against the ceiling for the day, completely open to the hot Toronto air. A crowd of regulars already populated the space, even though it they had arrived barely after lunch on a Wednesday.

“Don’t even think about the Nutella one.”

“You’re sucking all the joy out of this,” her father grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from over-filling a cup with piña colada, half of which would melt before he could finish it.

“I do what I can,” Blago replied, sing-song, and happily filled her own cup up with Nutella and a heap of Nanaimo bar.

When they looped around to the cash, she noticed the cashier had a definite second aura. A full wolf of a second aura.

“My treat,” she said and elbowed her dad out of the way. “You grab a table.” He might have been ‘in the know’, but he was still completely mundane and Blago wanted to avoid a long discussion about whether or not a werewolf in a froyo shop was a danger to society.

Blago slid both cups of froyo onto the counter. “Why does no one tell you that you have to parent your parents later on?” she asked and he grinned at her, wide and easy. He had floppy brown hair, an easy-going attitude, and a battered name-tag that read Antonio.

“Same reason they don’t tell you anything else about adulting and stuff, I guess,” he replied with a shrug as he rang her up.

To be fair, if Blago’s mom were still alive, she might have some more help on the supernatural front, but she and her dad were the only members of the family left. “To keep us from realizing that being responsible sucks?”

“Pretty much,” Antonio agreed. “But hey, on the upside, you get to do stuff like eat cereal for dinner and binge-watch Netflix in your pyjamas all weekend.”

“Point,” she agreed, managing to pick both cups up again without spilling. “See you around, man.”

“Good luck.”

“So…” her dad started, once they both got comfortable. No one looked at him twice, even though he hadn’t changed out of full uniform, since he needed to go back to work. To be fair, with police headquarters around the corner it wasn’t unusual to see officers in the neighbourhood, picking up elaborate Starbucks orders or having some froyo on their lunch breaks.

“So…?” Blago repeated.

“How was the date?” he asked, his eye wide and expression hopeful.

Blago took a large bite of her froyo and tried to think of an appropriate way to break the news. She came up blank. “Well, we came up on a murder and he fled the scene, so. Not great.”

“What? What did you do?” he asked immediately.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“He’s a nice young man without a dangerous job! What could possibly have gone wrong? Did you find a crime scene on purpose?”

Blago rolled her eyes so hard they actually hurt. “He’s self-involved, rude to waiters, doesn’t tip, and doesn’t take no for an answer,” she said flatly. “And no, I didn’t ‘find a crime scene on purpose’. It just happened!”

Her dad sighed. “Listen. If you weren’t interested in Warner because he’s too boring, and an officer, I thought maybe I could find you a nice civilian. But if you don’t like that, either, what about a nice magical law enforcement person? You have those, right? Someone who can take care of you?”

The blind date with Warner, her dad’s junior on the force, hadn’t gone well. But not because Warner worked for the police, or because he lacked magic. For one thing, he wasn’t mundane. Blago couldn’t be sure what Warner was, or if _he_ knew either, but regardless, two things had been abundantly clear: neither Blago nor Warner had known they were being set up until Blago's dad hadn’t shown for dinner; and Warner’s interests lay exclusively with men.

“Dad, no.”

“Dad, yes,” he countered.

“First of all, I can take care of myself.” His dubious expression indicated that he doubted that very much. “Secondly, it’s not the— no, you know what?” Blago cut herself off before she could give him any pertinent information. “I’m not going to help you out on this one. No more blind dates!”

“Your biological clock’s gotta start ticking soon, kiddo,” her dad said, his spoon pointed to her waist.

Blago scowled. Whatever he tried next would be awful.

***

Blago didn’t care if someone had been born completely mundane and free of magic, or if they were the legendary wizard Merlin. That wasn’t what got her. Blago had a type: semi-jerk with a heart of gold. And because Blago had awful luck, that person actually already existed in her life. Every day was agony and it the blame lay entirely with Dermid Flannagan.

Most days when she looked out from her shop and across Yonge Street to the charming storefront of Dermid’s veterinary practice, with its paw prints painted on the sidewalk and the pet watering stations in summer, he ruined her without trying.

Blago had seen more than enough romcoms with Lau to understand the concept of a meet-cute, though she’d always assumed meet-cutes didn’t actually happen in real life. They were too, well, cute.

That hadn’t stopped her from having one.

Lau had decided it was high time Blago updated some of the decor in her store, “before I’m embarrassed to be seen in there.” And, since Lau made a lot of Blago’s decisions, she’d gone along with it. They had spent the entire morning trawling through furniture stores on Queen West, and though most things would be delivered, somehow Blago had wound up hefting several bags of accent pieces, as Lau called them, for both the store and her apartment.

“Lau, my darling, light of my life,” Blago had started as they drew closer to the store, “my sunshine, my raison d’être—” She always made a point of emphasizing how full of life Lau was. The seer had been born with a strong sense of death, the weight of it in her aura palpable, pushing down on her every moment of every day; a constant, electrically tense weight.

“To the point, sweetie,” she interrupted. “And watch where you’re going.”

Just for that, Blago turned to walk backwards. “You know I adore you,” she continued, “but is all of this necessary?” she lifted her arms to show off the many bags that dug into the skin of her hands and forearms.

“It is if you ever want to get laid again,” Lau replied faux-sweetly, arching one eyebrow. Not Blago’s number one priority. Not even her number ten priority, honestly, but it would make Lau happy, which definitely ranked in the top ten, so she rolled with it. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t complain a little during the process.

So her apartment could use some work. It, like her wardrobe, fell somewhere lower on the list. Lau, on the other hand, put a great deal of effort into appearances. It had been years since Blago had seen her out without perfectly winged black eyeliner, without nice shoes and a pretty dress. Even complete mundanes could sense something different about Lau, and to compensate she applied her makeup like war paint.

Blago, by comparison, had pretty much decided to try and blend into the background the day her mother died. It hadn’t been hard.

And Blago would have explained that — in detail! — except her heel caught on the sidewalk and she had pin wheeled backwards, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the fall, and stumbled into someone with a loud _oof_. Luckily, whoever she’d managed to hit caught her shoulders before she hit pavement.

Blago cautiously opened her eyes and found herself face to face with the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her entire life — magazines and movies included. “Oh my god,” Blago blurted out before anything else. “I am so, so sorry.”

He —Dermid, she learned later — flushed from the heat, but helped Blago regain her feet. His hands lingered briefly, not unwelcome, and his sharp green gaze unfocused her. Something about him, the sweep of his dark hair and broad shoulders short-circuited her brain. He had a magnetic pull on her, almost on a molecular level. Blago physically shook herself out of distraction.

“Are you okay?” they had asked at the same time, and Blago stared, helplessly caught up in trying to memorize his face.

“Sorry, really, I should’ve watched where I was going,” she apologized again.

“Me too,” Dermid replied, seeming just as struck as Blago. Nothing like a good old Canadian standoff. “Sorry,” he added a third apology. “I was distracted,” he gestured, and for the first time Blago noticed the large moving truck in the laneway across the street from his little shop.

“See, sweetie, this is why you should always listen to me,” Lau interrupted impatiently.

Blago huffed out an overly dramatic sigh and grinned at her. “Yes, dear,” she agreed. She’d been bossing Blago around since kindergarten and that wouldn’t change any time soon. When she looked back at Dermid, his expression had become much more reserved. “Well, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she said gamely. “I’m right across the street if you need anything!”

Blago had thought the whole thing went pretty well, but from that day on Dermid seemed to run hot and cold and Blago had no idea why.

***

She returned to the shop after her unsuccessful visit with her father, taking the seat behind the cash back from Lau in time for the afternoon rush.

Yonge wasn’t actually the longest street in the world, despite what people said, but she could see why they might think so. One of the busiest streets in Toronto, it ran straight downhill through Vaughn, Markham and Barrie — all the way down from the north end of Toronto right to the shores of Lake Ontario. It was big, busy, and in Blago’s world it demarcated both the western edge of the gaybourhood, as she called it, and one of several magic-heavy communities, from more mundane neighbourhoods. Not that most of the city’s population knew about that second bit.

Her magic shop had enough mundane tricks and toys up front to keep the general foot traffic happy, while she produced a wealth of charms and potions, raw ingredients and her own set of services, most of which she made up, for her regulars on the magical side of the spectrum. So far, it had worked out fairly well.

But then, the bird. Blago closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of it again: itchy, unsettling. Unnatural in some way she couldn’t put her finger on just yet. The bins in the laneway out back weren’t far enough to get it off her radar, and the spot out front pulled at her focus, splitting it between the body out back and the sidewalk out front when she should have been focusing on tidying the shelves.

She tapped her fingers on the counter, unusually antsy.

“Screw it.” It didn’t take her long to fill a bucket with hot water, some lemongrass, and a bit of will, and grab a stiff-bristled broom from the back. She even managed to haul it up to the front of the store without spilling, mostly.

Blago didn’t feel badly when she dumped half the bucket of water all over the sidewalk during a lull between afternoon shoppers and the post-work crowd. She only splashed herself, and in the late June heat, she would dry off quickly.

A sickly magical residue remained, and although it left no mark on the sidewalk, no stain or blood to clean up, Blago could tell exactly where the bird had lain by skin of her hands, even half a metre above the ground. That itch in her palms, the shiver up her spine only grew as she scrubbed at the spot with the broom.

Blago leaned her whole body into it, hunched over and shoved the bristles against the grain of the sidewalk in short, sharp susurrations. Her arms and her back hurt, but as she focused her will she could finally start to feel the remaining disruption begin to lift with the water and washed over the curb.

A shadow fell over her just as she finished up. “You look like a crazy person,” Lau said, nose wrinkled up in distaste. “What died?”

“I found a bird here earlier,” Blago replied as she dumped the rest of the water, more carefully now to avoid splashing Lau, over the spot. She hefted the broom in one hand and the empty bucket in the other.

Across the street, Dermid made his way down the front steps of his practice, three water dishes balanced in his arms. Lau waited while Blago watched, knowing she only really had enough focus for one thing at a time.

Once he had finished setting them out on the sidewalk, he seemed to notice them and froze in the act of brushing spilled water off his hands.

Blago raised her broom in a clumsy salute and he waved back, awkward and stilted.

“Come on,” Lau said and hooked one arm around Blago’s elbow. She gave Dermid a weirdly showy wave. “You have work to do.”

Back inside, Blago washed her hands again and put the broom and bucket away while Lau set up her scrying equipment in a sunny patch of floor.

“Are you going to hide in the back all day or are you going to make this searching spell?” Lau asked and pretended to examine her manicure.

“I thought I’d hide a little longer, maybe be freaked out by the bird first,” Blago replied, but crossed back to the chalk circle Lau had drawn on the old wood floors and the beaten up old stock pot they had taken to using as a sort of cauldron-slash-scrying bowl. “Do you think I should get some of those bird decals for the windows? Maybe they’re hitting the glass.”

Lau huffed, and on anyone else it would have been a snort, but delicate, perfect Lau would never stoop to snorting. “They’re not hitting the glass. None of the neighbouring stores have dead animals out front in the morning, Blago. They’re just dying on your doorstep. Maybe if you had a familiar you could figure out the cause.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blago muttered, sinking down onto the floor.

“And,” she added, “a familiar would focus your magic and put you in a better position defensively. Has Elżbeta gotten back to you yet?”

“Not yet,” Blago admitted, unsure if she really wanted a response.

Blago’s magic shop wasn’t anything fancy. A moderately old building and probably a fire hazard, like the old bookshop up the street, it had been part of the city forever. And she owned the building, so there was no one to kick her out, even if the property taxes were kind of a pain in the ass.

The oldest magic Blago had ever felt came from being tied to your environment. It didn’t matter, in this case, that her environment included the old sewer system, and the bones of other old buildings, and bodies from back when the city ended at Bloor.

The ancient floors and foundation, the way the whole building had soaked up history and magic and little bits and pieces energy from all the people who had passed through the front door over the years all grounded her. Which explained why when Blago marked a circle on the floor, it caught and hooked into her magic easily, but if some determined student down the street at the new Ryerson University student centre tried it, they’d get a big fat nothing.

“Okay,” Blago said, mostly to herself, as she kneeled in front of the stock pot again. “Let’s do this.”

“Clear your mind,” Lau reminded her, and Blago stuck her tongue out at her just to make a point before she closed her eyes.

Blago took a deep breath in and held it, searched out the roots of the building as they stretched down and out below her, let it out and breathed in again. Lather, rinse, repeat, until each wall and shelf of the little shop, the one wobbly leg of her bed upstairs, the sweat on the toilet tank in the early summer heat came into focus. She held all of that square in the centre of her mind before she finally let her mind stretch out and pool across the city, searching, liquid.

“Good.” Lau’s voice seemed to come from far off. The bits and pieces in her stock pot reacted to her, to her magic, a gentle noise at the edge of her awareness but she couldn’t let it distract her. Somewhere in this city, surely, she could find her familiar.

Even through scrying, Toronto had a slope to it, down towards the waterfront. The point where the real land ended and the artificial extension of landfill began around Queens Quay made an easy landmark; the way it pushed out into the lake and the islands, not yet fully connected to the rest of the city. At least, not magically. The financial district had a soulless energy to its wide streets and great glass towers for a reason — and it wasn’t just the bloodthirsty lawyers and investment bankers.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Lau continued. “Let it find you, not the other way around. If you get distracted, pull back to your breath.”

Blago knew that. You didn’t exactly pull a familiar out of a hat; they had to choose a witch to work with. It just…

It seemed like every witch in the world except for her had a familiar. Certainly she felt sure every witch her age did. And, at that thought, her brain and her magic finally linked up, connecting on every level. She could see the entire city at once, lit up with a hundred, a thousand pinpricks of light dotting the districts; each one a spirit or magical energy; the odd dark spot like one nearby, not far away at all, and—

“I lost it.” She opened her eyes, resigned. “There were too many.”

Lau rolled her eyes and rose gracefully to her feet, as if she hadn’t been kneeling on the floor for god knew how long. “You were supposed to be looking for only one familiar, not every magical being in the GTA at once. If you’d stop getting self-conscious in the middle of it, this wouldn’t happen to you every time.” She brushed a speck of imaginary lint from the hem of her sundress.

“I’m twenty-six and I don’t have a familiar!” Blago whined. “It’s the kind of thing a witch gets self-conscious about!”

Lau waved Blago’s low self-esteem aside as irrelevant and hopped up on the stool behind the counter, pulling out a compact to check her makeup. “My time is valuable, Blago,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I can’t afford to waste it watching you deliberately screw up a pretty basic spell.” It sounded mean, but she spoke honestly. Lau’s time _was_ a lot more valuable than Blago’s, and her tenants relied on her. Blago really only had her little shop with its flexible hours.

She closed her eyes for a moment before she finally broke the circle around the pot and poked at the contents with one finger. Now that the magic has dissipated, the contents had turned gluey, like food left too long in a dish by the sink. Gross.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Lau replied and snapped her compact closed, tucking it back into her bag. “Be better. You can be, so get it together.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She slumped in front of the pot disconsolately, and Lau rolled her eyes when Blago looked up at her. “Clean up this mess and try to look less despondent,” she said, starting to tie back her long red hair. “It’s not the end of the world. And you don’t want to scare off any potential customers.”

She had a point, and Blago had a pretty good playlist saved on her phone, so she hooked it up to the speakers behind the desk and got cleaning. After all, what kind of familiar wanted a witch so easily demoralized? Not a cool one. And Blago had her fingers crossed for a familiar that reminded her of Lau. A familiar that would push her when she needed it.

When Blago had mostly finished scrubbing out the pot, Lau called for her over the music. “Your embarrassing crush is outside. I know you probably want to be weird about him, but-” Blago practically fell all over herself in her rush to get back to the front of the store and peer out the windows.

Sure enough, Dermid, arms full of the biggest, fluffiest, wimpiest dog Blago had ever seen, stood across the street. The dog looked almost as big as Dermid, which was saying something, and it clung onto him for dear life.

Dermid looked like he belonged on those dramatic hospital soap operas rather than a real life person. If she filmed the scene in slow motion, she could probably become an overnight success on YouTube. He absolutely did not belong on Yonge Street. His intense stubble and green eyes had made her suspect witchcraft briefly.

Oh, and his huge soft spot for animals. Obviously, it had been infatuation at first sight. On her part, anyway.

Across the street, Dermid struggled to keep a grip on the squirming beast of a dog while its owner took his sweet time unlocking the door of his car and shoving something out of the way before he stepped back. Dermid kept one hand gently wrapped behind the dog’s head, protected it from hitting the car at all, and bent out of Blago's line of sight.

“I’ll give you points for taste,” Lau said, “he’s very nice to look at if you’re into that kind of thing. Dim, though.”

Blago would argue, but as if he could hear them, Dermid looked over towards the store as he closed the car door. Even a little ruffled and wearing a lab coat, something about him captured the entirety of her attention and kept it close.

“He’s really something,” Blago agreed, half a breath away from a dreamy sigh.

Her? Infatuated? Not a bit.


	2. Allen Gardens

Blago's shop looked admittedly sketchy. One of the older buildings on Yonge street, it stood two stories tall, with a shabby front and old, small windows which didn’t let in a lot of light. The sign out front read Nostrum Arcade. Blago and Lau had painted it themselves.

As a result, she got a lot of people looking for stage magician hats, card tricks, magic rings, and Blago stocked them all up at the front of the store. But the good stuff, the real stuff, she kept at the back. In the dim light those in the know could browse without worrying about normals. She also had a loose _somebody else’s problem_ field across the middle of the shop to keep mundanes up at the front, which helped.

In the back Blago stored things like little sachets of pure sunshine, graveyard dirt cubes, and an impressively wide selection of dried herbs and plants. Of course, it all needed to be kept carefully in line so it wouldn’t interact poorly, which explained why Blago found herself in the aisles later in the afternoon when the bells on the door chimed, signalling a customer.

“I’ll be with you in just a minute!” Blago called, three jars of crushed cockroaches cradled against her chest as she made room on the shelf with her free hand.

She got no response from the front of the store, but that wasn’t unusual. Once she had all the jars settled, she brushed her hands off on her jeans and headed out to the front.

A dark, leggy blonde stood examining Blago’s selection of whoopee cushions; her curly hair draped down over a seasonally inappropriate leather jacket. “Hi there,” Blago called out and put on her best customer service face. “Anything I can help you with today?”

The blonde turned and gave her a thorough once over. “You’re cute, but definitely not what I expected from the way Elżbeta talks about you,” she said plainly. Her gaze assessed Blago, sharp in a way she hadn’t expected; it spoke to something more than human, though her eyes were looked a fairly ordinary brown on the surface. Blago had trouble reading her muddled aura; obscured as if she had gotten used to tamping it down.

Blago stammered. “Um, thanks?” The blonde rolled her eyes.

“Eve MacLeod,” she introduced herself, striding over to her quickly and thrusting out her hand. “Chimera.”

Blago froze mid-handshake. “You’re with Chimera?”

“No,” Eve corrected her, squeezing harder for a moment in a show of supernatural strength. “I am Chimera.”

There were three heads of the local magical government, and Blago had managed up to that point in her life to never meet any of them. She would have felt like a fraud, attending meetings with any of the big players. And now Elżbeta had sent one of the three people in charge directly to her shop.

Eve continued, seemingly oblivious to Blago’s internal panic. “And you’re Blagomir Simeon, right?”

No one called Blago by her first name – a boy’s name, and an unusual one in almost any country, even her mother’s birth country of Syria.

“Uh, call me Blago,” she replied, frozen awkwardly.

Blago tugged her hand back and flexed it against the lingering soreness. “Are you here about the body? I don’t know much more than I told Elżbeta last night.”

Traditionally, the Chimera was comprised of three supernatural creatures representing a lion, a goat, and a snake, who served as the heads of the supernatural and magical community for the Etobicoke, Toronto and York, and Scarborough. If she had to guess, she’d say Eve could be either the lion or the goat part of the trio.

“There’s more than one body,” Eve said flatly. “Do you have somewhere we can talk?”

***

Blago locked the front door, flipped the sign in the window to closed, and led Eve upstairs. Her kitchen bled into the living room, but it had a kettle and two chairs and a little table where she ate sometimes, and would have to be enough. “Tea?” she asked, already filling the kettle.

“Please,” Eve nodded.

Blago set the kettle on to boil, waiting for Eve to pick up where she had left off downstairs. Instead, Eve seemed happy enough to wait in silence. To break the silence Blago asked, “So what did Elżbeta tell you about me?”

Eve lifted one eyebrow at her, like she expected better. “Ninety percent of my job is knowing people, and putting those connections to work,” she said. “Elżbeta has been talking you up at meetings for years, but you’ve never shown up. So I asked around. You don’t cause trouble. You blend in with the mundanes. You mostly sell potions for arthritis, or pest control, or pain. All very boring — except for one thing.”

“And what’s that?” she asked as she laid out mismatched mugs and honey.

“You don’t have a familiar to focus your power, and you’re spilling magic all over Yonge Street like a leaky hose. And now something with a taste for magic is killing us,” Eve said once they both settled.

“Killing us? Killing who, exactly?”

“Magical beings — it doesn't seem to care what kind.”

That gave Blago pause. “And when you say killing you mean…?” Blago had mainlined a lot of crime shows, and serial killer storylines never ended particularly well. Especially not when someone described the killer as an _it_.

Eve huffed out a breath, leaned back in her chair and pushes her hair off one shoulder. “I mean three people in our community are dead, and I don't think it's going to stop there.”

“That seems—” Blago wanted to say unlikely, given how hardy even lower level magical beings could be, but few things were actually impossible. A sick residual magic clung to the body the other night, but she had thought the victim didn’t have magic— someone taken down by a member of the community. Not one of their own.

“I know,” Eve continued. “I need help looking into this. And,” she sighed, resigned, “Elżbeta seems to think you’re the person for the job. We need to know what or who is doing this, and we need them stopped. Whatever you need, you let us know.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a completely mundane business card, which read _Eve MacLeod, Yonge-Centre Business Improvement Area._

“How long has this been happening?” Blago asked, pocketing the card.

“You’d know if you came to meetings.”

Blago focused her gaze on her mug, traced the handle inside and out with her index finger instead of meeting Eve’s eyes. “I’ve been kind of busy.” That was true. Once school let out, hordes of students trekked in and out of her shop, whiling away their summers. And she still hadn’t found her familiar, despite trying.

“Yeah, I heard.” Eve snorted. “But this is serious, and the longer it goes on, the more it’s going to affect your friend. Lau?”

Blago snapped her head up and met Eve’s stare directly. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Lau’s family had deep ties in the community, and they weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

“If she chooses to get involved, that’s her choice,” Eve countered. “But the faster you help me find the perpetrator the less likely it is she’ll need to, or to feel the effects of these deaths.” She paused to glare at Blago meaningfully. “Something tells me you’ll be plenty motivated.”

Blago slumped in her chair. “I’m listening.”

“I’m not happy about this either, you know,” Eve said, instead of giving her the information. “If I had my way, I’d deal with this on my own. But I’ve got too much on my plate.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Blago rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think you do.” Eve scowled. “I’ve got a lot of upset people looking for answers. You’re going to do the leg work, and I’m going to assume you can defend yourself. You find something, you report back to me. You don’t find something, you report back to me. You get even half an idea about this—“

“I report back to you, yeah, I got it,” Blago repeated, annoyed. She wasn’t stupid. “Are you going to give me something to go on or what?”

Eve stared her down, her eyes a light brown that looked almost amber-gold in the light and her lips tight in a thin line. “Don’t disappoint me.”

***

Eve left a list with her. Three names, three locations spread out across the city, some not particularly far from Blago's shop. The first line on the list read Adam Carver, Allen Gardens. So Blago knew how she would spend her afternoon.

She texted her dad. If you find me dead near Allen Gardens, it was for justice.

He texted back immediately, _Does justice mean a boy???_

She could safely ignore and not answer that text, like, ever.

The Gardens weren’t far, and Blago hopped on the subway down to College before grabbing the streetcar east, googling Adam on the way.

Based on his Twitter profile photo, Adam had been kind of a flat-faced looking jock and, based on his older tweets, a bit of a dick. They didn’t make a lot of sense to Blago, though she didn’t use Twitter herself, so she could have been missing something. He mostly followed porn-bots and, from his timeline, he spent a good chunk of his time being that asshole in the comments. Even though he seemed like the kind of guy Blago hated, he probably didn’t deserve to be murdered. Probably.

Half his tweets at-mentioned his twin brother, who seemed like less of a douche. She clicked over to his profile. He seemed to be big on arty events: gallery openings, wine tastings, axe throwing. She shivered, seeing his retweet of an interactive theatre show at the Campbell House the night before. Small world.

***

There was a reason Toronto had been called ‘the city within a park’, and while it definitely had to do with the large swathes of green that swept down from the north end, as well as the parks and tree-planting programs, places like Allen Gardens had something to do with it, too. Even in the dead of winter, tropical greenhouses like the Gardens provided a warm and energized space for the city. Every resident benefited from it, even if they never visited. The energy of those places radiated out to the surrounding areas. Blago could even sense it in her shop, creeping up through the floors.

Allen Gardens stood huge and shining in the middle of a slightly scruffy stretch of Carlton, south-east of Blago’s shop. The glass-domed Palm House arched brightly, catching the sun. The hum of life inside the greenhouse drew the magical and the magically-inclined closer, whether they knew it or not.

Blago slipped inside the heavy front door and immediately let the hot, humid air settle against her, shades warmer and heavier than the air outside, even if Toronto in the summer had the same atmosphere as a greenhouse all on its own. Each year seemed to be the hottest on record, with the humidex soaring into the 40s by August.

A few tourists wandered the curving paths between exotic tropical plants, so Blago pulled the brim of her Blue Jays cap down over her forehead and tried to blend in. The overwhelming density of plant energy muffled anything else, so she headed left and into the first room.

Blago hadn’t actually been to Allen Gardens since she moved in over the shop. Despite being only slightly out of her way she rarely visited, usually deep in her work. However, if that plant in the middle of a bed of cacti really was cloud venom, she would have to stop by after hours and take a little cutting for herself.

Blago crouched down, pulled out her phone and snapped a picture and texted it to Lau. _Check it out! The city is growing potion supplies for me._

Where are you and what do you think you’re doing? Lau texted back immediately.

Solving murders for a lady from Chimera?

Lau had a sixth sense, literally, for danger to the people around her. It paid to be friends with a seer, even if she spent half her time judging Blago.

Her phone rang. “Lau, light of my life,” she began, but Lau cut her off immediately.

“Where are you, exactly?” she asked.

Blago shuffled aside on the path, out of the way of any other visitors to the Gardens and scuffed the toe of one sneaker against the paving. “Allen Gardens. Why?”

She could practically hear Lau roll her eyes. “Because I have a bad feeling, and you’re the biggest troublemaker I know. I’m coming over there. Don’t move.”

“Okay,” she agreed, eyeing the door to the next section.

“If you take one step I will know and I will end you myself,” she said sharply, and hung up on her without even a friendly goodbye.

***

When Lau arrived, she blended in much better with the crowd than Blago. In her sundress, hair pulled back and up off her neck, they looked like a couple enjoying a stroll through the gardens together the second she took Blago’s arm. No one glanced twice at them — other people’s expectations were honestly the best camouflage.

“Tell me everything,” she said, elbowing Blago in the side until she bent so they could peer down at a tropical flower. “I could have sworn you had barely even heard of Chimera.”

“I read!” Blago protested weakly. She had a whole bookshelf of magical volumes she had barely cracked open back at the shop.

She brought Lau up to speed as they circled the room together. There might have also been some griping about Eve and her complete lack of niceties, but Blago believed her griping to be well-earned.

“She’s just rude,” Blago finished. “Like lady, I get it: dead people, angry and upset residents. It’s probably just heat stroke.”

“The body you saw last night says otherwise. And I doubt a member of Chimera would come to you about heat stroke,” Lau replied.

Blago gestured emphatically at the fogged glass of the green house. “It’s stupid hot outside, it’s way too sunny, and the city has called extreme heat warnings like, every day for two weeks. It’s probably heat stroke for the other two bodies. What we need is a big storm.” She paused and thought about it. Lau had stuck closer to home lately, and not just because she liked to avoid sun exposure. “Unless… you know something?”

Lau pursed her lips for a moment. “I haven’t felt many sudden deaths lately,” she says quietly, “but a few people have... faded.”

“Faded?”

“Just… faded away. It’s subtle, when people die of old age or a long sickness. I can’t be sure if those are magical deaths or mundane.”

Blago couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to have viscerally felt death from infancy. How young had Lau been when the first of her relatives had passed away? When she first encountered a public space with a recent death?

“Or heat stroke,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, but it was too late. Lau had that anxious purse to her mouth. “Eve made it sound pretty violent, though,” Blago admitted. Mostly she had needed to vent, and with that done she could tackle the problem of Adam Carver.

Lau lead her towards the next room. “But you don’t know what she meant, exactly. Especially since this involves magic. There are more kinds of death than you can count — you’re lucky you have me around.” She paused in front of the door, her face pinched. “There’s a darkness in that next room. Something bad happened here.”

“Uh, yeah. Someone died,” Blago replied with a silent duh. Or not so silent, since Lau elbowed her again none too gently.

“No one died here,” she said, staring blankly at the door, “but someone started to.”

“You can feel that?” Blago asked dumbly. Lau didn’t like to talk about it usually, and Blago didn’t ask.

Lau turned her gaze on Blago, piercing and flat. “I have many skills,” she said, opened the door and pulled Blago through to the next room.

“Was that a _Xena_ reference?” She followed along in Lau’s wake. Lau might have been barely five feet tall, but she was a force to be reckoned with. “That was definitely a _Xena_ reference!”

She would have kept going, but something stopped her in her tracks, the change in the air immediate and palpable. The humidity and lower temperature were one thing, but the whole room also reeked of not-good and dark magic. Blago hunched her shoulders and rubbed at her arms.

She wanted to dig her heels in, but she knew better. She let Lau pull her along the path and over to a particular bed of brightly coloured perennials. In the middle of the bed a bright purple plot of aconitum variegatum sprouted. Wolfsbane. Some of it had been ripped up by the roots, the flowers missing.

Suddenly some of the tweets in Adam’s timeline made sense. “I thought Adam— the victim’s— only redeeming feature was being a fan of The Princess Bride,” Blago said as she stared down at the poisonous plant, “but I’m starting to think he might have been a little bit touched in the head.”

“You think he came here looking for wolfsbane?” It did sound crazy. Wolfsbane was poisonous to humans and most magical creatures alike, not just werewolves. And Blago had begun to suspect Adam Carver was one of the latter.

“I think he was planning to try and build up an immunity to it, like the man in black did with iocane powder.”

“That’s moronic,” Lau said flatly. “Werewolves can’t build up an immunity. No one can. It would drive him mad before killing him. Do you happen to know of any werewolves in the area other than the victim?”

“Just one,” Blago replied. The cashier at the froyo place seemed so genuinely nice, she had trouble fully believing he’d have anything to do with poison in a public space.

They stared at the plant for a minute.

“So is that it? Werewolf willingly ingests wolfsbane, dies a slow and painful death?”

Lau shook her head. “This place wouldn’t feel like this if that were the whole story,” she replied, and Blago’s heart sunk. It had been too easy a solution. “I don’t know what, but something else happened here. I’ve just—” She frowned. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Blago didn’t want to do this to her, but like Lau said: she was Blago’s best shot. “Well, lucky for us there are two more names on my list.”

“Great,” Lau said flatly. “Just what I always wanted: more death.”

***

The return visits to the Gardens had paid off. Lacking all self-awareness, the Tanuki spoke loudly, openly about their distribution plans; the suppliers who worked in the west end; their meeting with the head of the organization that very night.

It was easy to follow them. Their boss was powerful but old. Frail. If they took him out, surely the organization would collapse. Surely.

Absolutely, the hunger inside agreed. You would be doing the police a favour.

The previous two had been almost accidental. A kindness, in one case, and self-defence in another. This was something else. It’s for a good cause, the hunger whispered back.

They watched as the underlings left the little shack. Their leader remained, lighting a cigarette that flared bright in the darkness. Like a beacon, or a target.

He was alone. They knew what they needed to do.


	3. The Black Cat

Blago took a few samples of magical plants from throughout the Gardens before they left. Lau served as her distraction, though most people seemed to assume Blago had a reason for stealing plants. They shouldn’t have been growing where any mundane could get their hands on them to begin with, and the thought of it tickled at the back of her brain the whole way home.

She and Lau parted ways at the subway, Lau heading south to her glass-walled condo in the financial district, Blago north to her little shop. The sun set as she made her way up the street, and it had the unfortunate side effect of limning Dermid’s dark hair and broad shoulders in gold as he knelt in front of the laneway beside his office.

Blago wasn’t a saint. She couldn’t resist. That pull he had overwhelmed her, especially when he looked particularly handsome. She jogged across the street, dodging traffic, and called out to him. “Hey, Dermid, whatcha doing?”

Dermid, of course, ignored her. He crouched in front of the laneway, watching the shadowy space intently. Blago stopped beside him. “Dermid?” she asked again.

“Shh,” Dermid whispered without taking his eyes off the alley. Blago crouched down beside him and peered into the dim and narrow lane. After a moment her eyes adjusted and she could see recycling, green waste, and garbage bins of the stores on crammed in on either side of it. A tiny pair of ears peeked out from behind one of the bins.

Of course Dermid would try to woo a kitten out of a laneway. Of course. 

The tiny kitten had a soot-black coat, and it stared at them both curiously with bright gold eyes. Blago hardly dared to breathe. Finally, it started to creep forward in quick little stops and starts, side pressed close to the bins and the wall as much as possible, making its route bend and curve. Dermid gently offered one of his hands, and the kitten delicately sniffed at it, sneezed once, and apparently decided Dermid was good enough. It rubbed its jaw shamelessly against his fingers, begging for chin scratches and purring up a storm.

“Oh my god,” Blago squeaked. Yes, squeaked. Anyone would’ve squeaked in that situation.

Dermid continued to pretend she didn’t exist, apparently a running theme in their interactions at that point.

The kitten, on the other hand, turned to allow Dermid to scratch the spot above its tail and took the opportunity to sniff at Blago. It sneezed again, rapidly this time, three in a row, and shot her a look that clearly said _that was your fault and I blame you for it_.

“Sorry,” Blago apologized to the kitten. The distraction allowed Dermid to scoop the tiny thing up in both hands and cradle it to his chest. His hands dwarfed it, but the kitten made no move to escape and instead tilted its head up to meet Dermid’s gaze with a tiny mew.

Blago could have died of cuteness. That was a real thing happening to her at that very moment.

“Let’s get you inside and take a look at you,” Dermid murmured to the kitten and rose smoothly to his feet. Blago scrambled after him, managing to squeeze inside the vet’s office just before the door closed.

When Dermid looked at her askance, Blago shrugged. “You’re totally going to need an extra pair of hands, dude.”

Dermid sighed, long-suffering, but didn’t actually say no or ask Blago to leave, so she decided to take the win gracefully.

Unlike Blago, Dermid had modernized his space since moving in nearly a year ago, so the light from outside filtered in through the large new windows out front. The materials were a mix of old and new. All of it combined to create a tangible connection and a good energy flow for the space. Whether Dermid meant for it to be that way or not, the combination had a calming effect.

The little black kitten stayed completely calm, only mewing once in protest when Dermid set her down on the exam table.

Blago and the kitten stared at each other for a long moment. Did cats have dominance staring contests, like dogs? She wasn’t sure, but she also wasn’t going to blink. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

She blinked.

The kitten had the gall to look smug. Of course, when Dermid returned to scoop her up and place her on a scale in the corner, she became all sweetness and slow-blinking eyes as her purr picked up again. Sneaky.

Blago kind of liked it.

“What are you doing?” Blago said as Dermid noted down the weight and brought the kitten back to the exam table. “Give me the whole razzle-dazzle.”

“Razzle-dazzle?” Dermid repeated, blankly.

Blago made with the jazz hands. “You know, the whole spiel.”

Dermid huffed but began narrating as he gently thumbed open the kitten’s mouth to look inside. He handled the kitten firmly but gently, self-assured. In contrast, Blago had always felt clumsy and awkward, not confident in her magic. Or anything else in her life, frankly. Maybe that explained why easy competence had always been a common factor in her crushes. There was something spectacularly attractive about someone unselfconscious enough to put others at ease.

The kitten graciously allowed Dermid his inspection and rubbed one whiskered cheek along his sleeve when he let go, scent-marking him.

The exam itself took less time than Blago expected. Dermid made the process quick but thorough, and Blago helped by holding the kitten in place while he took her temperature— “Definitely a girl,” he noted— and gave her a few shots.

“So, what’s next?” Blago asked as Dermid cleaned up and removed his gloves. The kitten thoroughly examined the flannel sheet she had been rolling on; pounced and seemed delighted when it skidded along the table.

“We put her up for adoption, and hopefully someone takes her. If not, I’ll send her over to the humane society in a few weeks.” He shrugged. “It can be hard with black cats.”

“Wait, what?” Blago stared down at the kitten, only a tiny ball of fluff with bright gold eyes. She couldn’t imagine someone not wanting to take such a cutie home.

“Because people think they’re bad luck,” Dermid said with a frown. “We have to be extra careful. Some people adopt black cats with the express purpose of hurting them on Halloween.”

Blago recoiled. She hadn’t even considered deliberate cruelty as a possibility. The words spilled out of her mouth before she could think about it. “I’ll take her.”

Her words actually seemed to surprise Dermid. “You’ll— what?”

“I’ll take her,” Blago said more firmly. She scratched the kitten under the chin, earning another delighted chirrup. “See? We’ve already bonded. It’s meant to be.”

“A kitten is a lot of responsibility.” Blago would have thought he’d be happy to have someone take her off his hands, but instead he seemed almost annoyed. “You can’t just take her in and then change your mind when she gets big.”

Blago rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Dermid. I know she’s going to grow up. But I could use a cat, and a black cat in a magic shop? Even you have to admit, it’s a match made in heaven.”

“It’s something,” Dermid muttered, but he pulled some paperwork out of a nearby drawer. “Fill this out. She has to come back in two weeks for vaccinations. And I’ll need a stool sample as soon as possible. And you’re going to need food, a litter box—”

“The works, yeah, okay. You sell all kinds of cat stuff, right?” She fished a pen out of her shirt pocket and started filling out the form.

“Yes?” Dermid still looked stunned, like he couldn’t believe Blago was a responsible adult just because she owned a magic shop.

“So you grab it all, Felicia and I will fill this out together, and then you can help me get it all across the street.”

“Oh I can, eh?”

Blago looked up from the form and gestured at Dermid. “It’s pretty obvious you’re a lot stronger than me.” Dermid had the physique of one of those people who actually enjoyed exercise and did it regularly by choice, versus Blago, who mostly stayed healthy by walking everywhere in the city to avoid transit-rage and by moving and unpacking heavy inventory boxes.

“Wait— Felicia?” Dermid backtracked.

“Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat? Burglar turned detective? Marvel? No? Ugh,” Blago groaned when Dermid didn’t react. “You need to get out more.”

Dermid opened his mouth to reply and then shut it abruptly; stepped back and out into the hall. “I’ll just, uh, grab that stuff,” he said and disappeared down the corridor.

Felicia, meanwhile, had curled up on the flannel in a tiny ball to sleepily keep an eye on Blago. “Looks like we’re going to be roomies,” Blago said quietly. “I hope you don’t snore.”

She snapped a few pictures of her on her phone to send to her dad. Taking this cutie home.

Stop getting my hopes up, her dad replied less than a minute later.

“Ew,” Blago mumbled to herself. Are you seriously asking me to text you pictures of dudes I pick up?

At least then I’ll know you’re actually dating, read the response.

Touché.

***

The pile of cat supplies towered tall enough that Dermid grabbed a dolly from the back and stacked as much on it as he could, tied off with bungee cord. For her part, Blago had precious cargo. She took off her loose over shirt and bundled it into the bottom of a small cardboard carrier Dermid had unfolded for her. “You’ll need to get a real carrier eventually,” he explained, “but this will do for a few weeks while she’s still small.”

Dermid locked the door behind him and started heading for the lights up the street.

“Where are you going?” Blago asked. “My place is like, directly across the street from you.”

Dermid looked at her like she was a moron. “To the intersection?”

“Okay, see you on the other side like forever from now.” Blago jogged quickly across the street as soon as she spotted a gap in the traffic. Being a good Canadian girl though, she waited for Dermid out front of the shop instead of heading inside immediately. It took him a few minutes longer to catch up.

“Jay-walking is a good way to get yourself killed,” Dermid said when he finally made it to the door.

“Believe me, being forced to wait at the lights would kill me faster.” Blago unlocked the door. Luckily she couldn’t see any dead animals out front.

Inside was cool and dark, and the jangle of the little bells made Blago smile as she locked it behind them. Dermid glanced around the space with undisguised interest.

“Oh, I guess you’ve never been in here before, eh?” It wasn’t really a question.

She was extremely aware Dermid had never before crossed the street or checked out her store. They ran into each other outside) but they hadn’t entered each other’s stores until that evening. To be honest: Blago made a point of being friendly and Dermid generally seemed standoffish in return, so she didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll give you the grand tour. There’s the counter and the register, over here are gags for kids and over there is more advanced supplies for illusionists. The back has all the good stuff, of course.” She led Dermid through the shop quickly and towards the stairs up to the second floor.

“The good stuff,” Dermid muttered, “Of course.” Blago could practically hear the air-quotes.

“Yep.” Blago set Felicia’s box on the lowest stair and climbed the short flight two at a time to unlock and open the door, stealing a quick peek inside. Her laundry sat tucked in the hamper and she had actually loaded the dishwasher the other day, so she probably wouldn’t completely embarrass herself in front of Dermid. “Should I let her out first and then we can bring all that up?” she asked but Dermid shook his head before she could even finish the sentence.

“First you set up the litter box, water bowl, and food bowl, then you introduce her to the box. Then the rest of the space. Rookie mistake.” He grinned.

“I bow to your infinite wisdom,” Blago agreed and sketched a loose bow. “You’re the expert.”

“Damn straight,” Dermid agreed, one hip against the kitchen counter as he examined the space. He looked so comfortable and natural in her apartment, like he just fit there. It made something in her gut twist, so she distracted herself.

Blago put Felicia, still in her carrier, on a chair in the kitchen before she helped Dermid haul everything up the stairs. They made short work of setting up the litter box, washing the dishes and filling the water bowl with cold water, but Dermid stopped her when she set the two bowls next to each other in the kitchen.

“Another rookie mistake.” He took the food bowl from Blago's hands. “Always keep the food and water separate. Cats don’t like to drink where they eat.”

“Are you serious right now?” Blago asked. She had seen loads of pet dish sets that came in little stands to keep the two bowls together.

“She’ll drink more water if you keep it away from the food.” Dermid set the food bowl in a different corner. Then he pulled three more dishes out of the box. “And you need to have more than one water bowl, and keep them topped up with fresh, cold water every day.”

Blago crouched down and peered through the slats in Felicia’s carrier to meet her luminous eyes. “You’re going to be high maintenance, aren’t you?”

Felicia meowed delicately at her. An agreement, then.

With everything set up, Blago opened up the carrier and lifted Felicia out. She was tiny, so light it seemed as if she barely weighed anything at all. Nothing but a little puff of fur in her hands. Blago carried her directly over to the litter box in the corner and set her gently inside.

She looked at Blago with clear judgment, scrambled out, and immediately marched across the room to her food bowl, where she delicately began to eat.

“Well, she knows what she wants.” They watched her eat for a few minutes in companionable silence.

Belatedly Blago realized that Dermid — hot veterinarian Dermid — had entered her apartment, and stood leaning against the kitchen counter watching Blago's new kitten eat. And Blago had no idea what to say to him.

“So,” she says hastily into the lull, “How ‘bout them Leafs?”

“It’s the off-season,” Dermid replied, bemused. “They’re probably playing golf.”

“Is it?” Blago didn’t follow hockey. Or any sports, really, unless the Winter Olympics were happening and even then only in a fit of seasonal nationalism which only came around every four years.

And the occasional Jays game, entirely because Lau loved baseball and statistics like Blago loved falling asleep watching Netflix.

Dermid laughed though, really laughed, and Blago had never seen him relaxed and happy before. It did things to his face, which, in turn, did things to the butterflies in Blago's stomach; awful.

Be cool, Blago, she thought to herself. What would Lau do?

“You should stay for dinner,” she blurted out. “Uh, you know, make sure Felicia settles in okay. I probably owe you one anyway, right?”

And just like that, Dermid’s face shuttered. “I’ve got to get back, but thanks,” he said, standing up straight and heading for the door.

“I — thanks for everything,” Blago continued, stumbling after him, down the stairs and out the front door. “I’ll definitely bring her by for her shots.”

“Sure. See you around,” Dermid called over his shoulder, and turned right towards the crosswalk.

Blago stood at the door for a moment and watched him go before locking the door again.

She didn’t even know what she did wrong.

***

The hunger had slipped free of control more than once. They needed to be more careful. It grew stronger, but still hadn’t achieved its goal.

Instead, they woke more than once in the act of pressing something small and dead and untouched to the witch’s home territory. The hunger acted more and more on its own.

She hasn’t noticed us yet, it whispered.

And I don’t want her to.

Shaking off the hunger, they forced their feet to turn and leave, back the way they had come.


	4. Misunderstandings and Failed Attempts at Scrying

Felicia left some food in her bowl and spent the rest of the evening exploring the apartment. Mostly the process seemed to involve hiding under the couch, or the bed, or trying to squirm into places where Blago was sure she couldn’t fit. At one point, she heard a creak; the door to her closet stood open. In the dark space between the door and the wall Felicia’s eyes gleamed bright. Blago shrugged in her direction. Cats.

She seemed particularly interested in examining the bookshelf where Blago kept her personal magic supplies. She pawed at Blago’s scrying pot, sniffed delicately at her dried bundles of herbs, and nudged her bowl of acorns before sneezing. _Adorable_. Blago had to force herself not to cross the room and scoop her up into a hug at the sheer cuteness. She wanted Felicia to feel safe in the apartment, and that wouldn’t happen if Blago interrupted her exploration.

Instead, she messed around on the internet, Googling how to acclimate a new kitten. Finally, when she could barely keep her eyes open, she turned out all the lights and climbed into bed.

As her breathing began to even out and her brain slowly eased out of its usual frantic dervish, it happened: a small dip in the mattress near her toes, progressing up along the side of her body.

Blago opened her eyes in the dark.

Felicia had curled up in a tiny ball right next to her face, back pressed against the pillow and nose tucked neatly into her tail and paws. She blinked at Blago once, yawned, and closed her eyes.

Blago’s heart grew three sizes.

***

Felicia woke her up bright and early by standing directly on top of Blago’s bladder and kneading. For a creature weighing in at maybe a kilogram or less, she knew how to use her weight very effectively. “I’m up, I’m up!” Blago whined. She scooped Felicia up and rubbed her nose along her whiskers.

Felicia might have purred loudly, but Blago felt pretty sure that was her way of bribing Blago to fill the food bowl faster. “Joke’s on you, cat,” she said as she set her down on the floor and headed over to the bathroom. “You’re the reason I have to pee first.”

Having a cat would take some getting used to. She followed Blago into the bathroom and then darted back into the kitchen, meowing all the while as though to tell her to hurry up already. “I hear you.” Blago’s assurance wasn’t enough for Felicia, who wound figure eights around her feet and cranked her purr up to eleven. By the look of things, she had polished the rest of her dinner off sometime during the night. “Are you hungry?” she asked as she pulled out fresh food.

The sharp _meow_ she received in response was a definite yes, so Blago filled her bowl and then grabbed her own breakfast.

While catching up on the news on her laptop and shovelling cereal into her mouth her phone lit up with a call. Blago looked over at the clock on the oven in disbelief. “It’s eight AM,” she muttered to herself. Who called this early? Who _called_ , period?

Probably her dad. Probably with another blind date. Ugh.

She was definitely not going to answer that.

Instead, she waited for it to stop ringing, cleaned her dishes, and hauled her laptop over to the couch so she could Google the other victims.

 _Graham Weatherly, Don River at Corktown Common_ read number two on Eve’s list. Her googling resulted in a profile of a man in his early thirties who looked simultaneously pretentious and insecure. He styled his hair in an elaborate coif adding at least seven centimeters to his height; his jewel-tone blue suit looked well-tailored and unnaturally neat. _He probably has ‘fun’ socks on under that_ , Blago thought. Hundreds of men who looked and dressed exactly like him populated the financial district.

Not that this guy had worked in finance. His job title read like a string of nonsense words, but he worked for a creative agency based out of the distillery district, so it wasn’t exactly surprising. Blago only tended to head into that part of town for the annual holiday market. She didn’t know a lot about the area otherwise.

The only other real information about Graham she could find lay in an overly-detailed LinkedIn profile and a professionally bland Twitter account linking to generic articles about design thinking and innovation. Not a lot to go on.

Number three on the list looked more interesting: Hideyoshi Abe, Riverdale Farm. She expected another boring business profile, but instead the top six results were news stories about criminal cases.

 _A bail hearing was held Thursday for Hideyoshi Abe, 67, charged with possession,_ she read. Aside from trying to get her hands on a variety of magical plants that weren’t, under mundane laws, strictly legal, Blago didn’t know anything about the drug scene in the city.

One of her friends in university had offered to take her extra painkillers after a bike accident and sell them to a dealer. That moment contained the entirety of her experience. Blago, being a wimp, had instead let the pills sit at the back of her medicine cabinet and expire before she turned them in at a nearby pharmacy.

Abe has faced previous charges in the provincial courts, including fraud and counterfeiting, but has yet to be convicted.

Judge Analyn Tabujara has stated that she requires time to review the materials in this case and will give her decision sometime next week.

The sidebar featured a photo of a neatly dressed older Japanese man exiting the courthouse on University Avenue with several people around him. Lawyers, or lackeys, maybe both. Even in the still image he had an energy about him that made her wonder how, exactly, someone had managed to take him out.

The more news stories she read about him, the more she wanted to know. Either someone had gotten his guard down or they weren’t afraid of losing.

Blago shivered at a phantom breeze in the room, closed her laptop, and went to look for a distraction.

***

In the afternoon lull, before students got out of class and after the post-lunch seniors rush, Elżbeta pushed through the door into the shop and out of the humid air outside. “Blago, you’re looking well,” she said. “Did Eve call on you?”

Seeing Elżbeta in person only reinforced the stark contrast between her and Eve. She had that cultivated harmless look of Miss Marple, neatly dressed in soft pastels and an old-fashioned cardigan. “She did,” Blago replied slowly. “She’s… a lot.”

Elżbeta smiled like she knew something Blago didn’t. “I think she’ll be very good for you, dear. You remind me of myself at your age, you know.”

She’d heard that one before. Blago made a sound of agreement rather than get into it again.

“Oh, I know you probably don’t like hearing that,” Elżbeta continued, “but it’s true! Give Eve a chance, will you? She’s exactly what you need to get you out of your comfort zone.”

“I’ll try,” Blago agreed finally. There had to be a reason Elżbeta liked her.

***

When she opened up the front door the next morning there was already someone waiting: a dead squirrel, laid out in a straight, narrow line pointing headfirst into the shop. “You didn’t get outside and try to, like, provide for me last night, did you?” she asked Felicia. But no, Felicia had been indoors all night. The kitten did look intently focused on the corpse through the glass, though, and made inquisitive sharp, chirping sounds, so Blago made quick work of cleaning it up and washed her hands thoroughly.

Since she didn’t usually open the shop until a little before lunchtime, Blago grabbed a few grocery bags and headed down the street towards Maple Leaf Gardens.

The former hockey and concert arena still had a great deal of Toronto Maple Leafs history built into it. Blago didn’t give it much attention, except when she had to navigate her cart around tourists taking photos with centre ice, still marked in the middle of the aisles with a large red dot.

She preferred the store because of its massive floor space, the biggest grocery store in the area. The walls had been decorated in bright, high contrast colours and old hockey photos, and at all hours filled with people buying quail eggs and fresh baked bread and gay pride cupcakes.

Blago weaved her way past the patisserie, the hot food, the florist and deli and fish counters, back around the cheese wall. Halfway through the aisles she stopped to compare two kinds of olive oil when Dermid wheeled his cart around the corner.

“Hey! You’re smart.” Blago waved a bottle of oil at Dermid. “What do you think, no name or fancy?”

“What?”

“No name olive oil or fancy olive oil?” Blago continued, accustomed to people taking a minute to catch up to where she had started the conversation. “I read somewhere that a lot of the fancy olive oils are mostly filler, but does that mean no name is better? And is it all fancy olive oils or only some of them? And does it matter? Like, will I even notice?”

Dermid stared at her for a second. “How many times can you say olive oil in one minute?” he asked finally, and Blago laughed.

“Okay, fair.” She set one of the bottles back on the shelf and dropped the other in her cart. Dermid’s cart was, surprise, filled with vegetables, butcher-paper wrapped parcels of meat, and two kinds of cheese. “At least tell me you’re going to get some chips or something. Ice cream? Your cart looks so ...wholesome. Even super healthy people have some garbage snacks, right?”

Dermid raised an eyebrow at her and jutted his chin at Blago's own cart. “Man cannot live on the hot food counter and pre-packaged salads alone,” he said with a shrug. “Though it doesn’t seem to be doing you any harm.” He gave her a slow once-over head to toe, and Blago stuck her tongue out at him to stop from flushing bright red. Something about him made her feel stupid, tongue-tied.

“Well, maybe man can’t, but woman can,” Blago she continued blithely. Her brain was stuffed full of static. “When do you even have time to cook, anyway?”

“On my days off, like everyone else.” It wasn’t like Blago had the hours for his vet practice memorized, but she was pretty sure the place almost never closed. She squinted at him suspiciously until he added, “Except for emergencies, nearly all the check-ups and things they need me for happen after most people get off work. The day-time stuff is pretty much grooming.”

And okay, yeah, that made sense. “I’m still suspicious of you having time to cook,” she said. “I barely have time for anything between Lau and—” she cut herself off before she said something incriminating, “um, everything else. You know.”

“Sure,” Dermid grinned, “everything else. Like reading up on olive oil.”

“Hey, this olive oil thing could be important!” 

Dermid glanced slyly at her cart and then back to her, and didn’t even say anything. He raised his eyebrows, teasingly judgemental.

“Blago, there you are!” Lau marched down the aisle, glanced between Blago and Dermid, who suddenly looked a lot less comfortable, adding slyly, “Well, isn’t this domestic.”

“What are you doing here?” Blago asked. “Shouldn’t you still be in bed?” Lau had never been an early riser.

“I should go,” Dermid cut in suddenly. “Nice to see you again,” he added to Lau and basically ran out of the aisle.

“That was weird.” He hadn’t even grabbed anything from the aisle.

Lau rolled her eyes but looped one arm through Blago’s, steering her towards the cashiers. “It really wasn’t. I told you he was kind of dumb,” she said and then immediately changed topics. “What did you do last night?”

“Nothing!”

Lau judged her silently. “Something changed.” Her mouth thinned unhappily. “I can feel it. I thought we agreed you would call me if you were going to do something dangerous?”

“I didn’t do anything dangerous!” Blago protested. “I adopted a cat!”

Lau clearly did not believe her. “We’re going back to your shop, and you’re spending at least another hour scrying.”

Blago whined. “But it’s hard.” Her mother had been a natural at scrying, always calm and focused. Blago could have jumped out of her skin at any given moment, and sometimes the results were, as Lau would put it, less than ideal. “And I’m bad at it!”

“Which is why you’re going to practice.” Lau firmly steered her into the shortest line-up. “You’re the only witch in the area. Get it together.”

“Ugh,” Blago groaned, but honestly, there was no arguing with Lau.

***

Lau set her to scrying as soon as they arrived back to the shop and Blago had put the groceries away. Unsurprisingly, it did not go well. But this time, at least, it wasn’t Blago’s fault.

She set up the chalk circle, the old stock pot, and all her ingredients no problem. The preparation came together simply enough. What wasn’t easy was finding her focus when Felicia seemed determined to climb inside the stock pot. Though barely big enough to reach the top of it, when she stretched up on her hind legs Felicia gamely hooked her paws over the edge and mewed at Blago as if to say _what do you think you’re doing?_ Somehow, Blago had adopted the world’s most judgemental cat.

“It doesn’t sound judgemental.” Lau huffed. “She’s a _cat_. She wants to know what you’re doing.”

But it obviously Blago’s concentration was shot. She scooped Felicia up so the little kitten could balance on her shoulder and rub their cheeks together with a low rumbling purr. Her fur and whiskers tickled like a little cloud puff against Blago’s skin.

“Okay, I get it, neither of you likes scrying today,” Lau said. “At least tell me you’ve lined something up defensively if you’re going after a creature that eats people.”

“Um,” Blago froze with one hand deep in Felicia’s fur.

Lau’s glare could have cut glass. “Listen, you’re never going to get better at handling your magic if you don’t practice. You’re strong, but you’ve got zero control!” Her hands fisted the fabric of her sundress.

“I know,” Blago said with a wince, “but even when I try it feels like I’m not getting anywhere!”

“That’s because you barely put any time into it!” Lau shouted and then stopped, rubbing her temples. “I can’t do this with you today. Just, try. Please. Remember that other people care if you get hurt.” Lau looked exhausted. She rose to her feet and smoothed out her dress absently. “I can’t help you if you don’t call me.”

Blago wasn’t entirely sure what she had done wrong, but she didn’t get a chance to apologize before Lau swept out of the store and back onto Yonge Street.

Felicia mewed inquisitively from her shoulder and Blago scratched her under the chin lightly. “Yeah, I don’t know, either.”

It didn’t take long to clean up her failed attempt at scrying so, feeling guilty, Blago spent a good hour or so assembling some offensive and defensive charms: witches burr and yew and toadflax bundled together with a little pure sunlight into small sachets she tucked into her pockets and her bag. They only required a little bit of will imbued into them to stay fresh, and they weren’t the type that could blow up in her face or get out of hand.

Of course, they wouldn’t exactly do a lot of damage if she got in a fight, but then, Blago didn’t even know what she was up against. Her mother’s old magic book sat on a shelf upstairs, gathering dust, and it might have had something useful in it, but the thought of seeing her mom’s hand-written notes in the margins made Blago swallow hard.

Most of the time she could think about her mother without issue. But her magic things still brought the grief back, fresh, like it had just happened. One day she had been talking about a family trip after end of semester exams and the next she had collapsed in the middle of campus. Heart failure.

Blago pushed the thoughts away and decided to rearrange the front of the store, instead.

Her phone buzzed a few more times over the course of the morning, but Blago avoided talking on the phone as a rule, especially while in a cleaning frenzy. So she ignored it. She had new inventory to put away, anyway — first a delivery from a mundane joke supplier not far over the border, and then some real stock from a gnome in the Rosedale Ravine.

Add to that the fact that Felicia had taken to being a shop cat as though it was her natural right in the world — keeping watch from Blago’s stool behind the cash or balanced delicately on her shoulder — and Blago had been swamped all morning. So she didn’t check her phone, and wasn’t expecting it when Eve stormed into the store shortly before lunch looking irritated. For someone with such a thundercloud on her face, she stepped lightly and without sound.

“Blago,” she ground out, clearly irritated with Blago. “Why are you ignoring my calls?”

“What?” Blago asked blankly. She had her arms full of goosegrass and mustard seed, and hastily shoved them onto the shelf, wiping her hands on the back of her shorts. “What calls?”

Eve threw her hands up in the air and stomped over to the cash, where Felicia sat right in front of Blago's cell. She grabbed it up off the counter and thumbed the screen awake. Eight missed calls it read.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Eve agreed, and tossed it back onto the counter carelessly. “I’m not used to being ignored. I want an update.”

Blago locked the front door and flipped the sign in the window to back in fifteen; hopping up to sit on the counter, she ran a finger down Felicia’s spine. The kitten arched into the touch.

“Adam Carver didn’t die at the Gardens. But whatever got him in the end started there,” Blago said to start. “How did you know?”

Eve rolled her eyes ostentatiously. “I’m Chimera. I know a lot of things. But so would you if you actually showed up to BIA meetings once in a while. Or answered my calls.”

“So someone told you,” Blago guessed, and by Eve’s frown, she knew she had the right idea. “Someone saw it happen?”

Eve shook her head. “He wound up at the Campbell House Museum, and you called Elżbeta about it. Whatever happened at the Gardens, it ended halfway across town.”

It was more than she had given Blago the other day, but still not much to go on. Somehow Blago still got the impression Eve held back information each time they spoke. “How did you find out it was Adam? Who did you talk to about it? Can I talk to them?”

“No, and nothing useful. My source didn’t have a lot of additional details, other than the fact that he had ingested a lot of wolfsbane and had been acting erratically for weeks leading up to his death. The mundanes don’t have much of anything else,” she replied. “What else did you find out?”

Clearly, Eve didn’t completely trust her yet— or there was something she didn’t want to share. “Not much,” she admitted. “Someone is growing a lot of magical plants in there, including the wolfsbane he ingested. Did you know about it?”

“They have a permit.” Eve shrugged.

“A permit,” Blago repeated, disbelieving. “To grow poison in a public space? From who, exactly?”

Her answer was simple “From me.” As if her say-so was more than enough.

Maybe it was. Blago kept mostly to herself, and had no real idea how magical politics worked in the city. She voted in all the mundane elections, tried to steer clear of American politics, and figured that covered her duty as a citizen.

“Does the city councillor know you’re giving out permits?” she asked, just to get a rise out of her. It worked.

“You haven’t attended one meeting of the BIA, so don’t pretend you know how my job works, how Chimera works. If I wanted someone to second-guess my decisions, I’d ask one of the other heads.” Eve slammed a hand down on the counter, but Felicia didn’t so much as flinch. She calmly kept an eye on their guest and continued to groom herself. “I need more information, and fast,” Eve growled, and for a minute she looked somehow more golden, brighter than she should with a hint of...something behind her. It faded a second later and she looked mostly mundane again. “Next time, answer my call.”

She left the shop in a dramatic sweep, the kind Lau had always been capable of but Blago never managed to replicate.

“I wish I could make dramatic exits,” she said to Felicia.

Felicia ignored her.

***

Blago waited until the sun set before she ran the stool sample across the street to Dermid’s. She had found the little plastic jar in with the cat supplies when she finished unpacking everything, and it was easy enough to use. She didn’t even have to get her hands dirty.

“Hey there,” she said as she propped her arms against the front desk. The cute girl at the desk had loose dark hair and warm eyes. And the fiery aura of some kind of spirit. “Is Dermid around?”

“Dr. Flannagan is with a client right now,” she replied. “Would you like to make an appointment?”

Blago glanced over her shoulder at the waiting room, currently occupied by three high-strung humans and four tiny lap dogs. She sighed. “Nah, I guess not,” she said instead and turned back to the counter. “Can I drop off this sample?”

“Sure thing!” she replied brightly, completely unfazed by the plastic jar of poo on her desk. “What is your pet’s last name?”

“Uhhh,” Blago paused.

“It’s your last name, too,” she whispered conspiratorially.

Blago grinned, charmed. “Simeon,” she replied. “S-i-m-,”

“Oh!” the girl gasped and quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean, uh, that’s okay, I have your file right here,” she continued and dug out a file out from under her keyboard. It must have been very interesting, because she managed to avoid Blago’s eyes completely by reading it intently. Blago puzzled over her strange reaction. “I can take care of it for you, Mrs. Simeon—”

“Blago is fine,” she cut her off. What had Dermid been telling people about her?

“Su Jin,” Dermid called from down the hall. “Luke and Leia are done with their appointment. Can you grab a double sample of the digestive food for them?” His gaze stayed fixed firmly on Blago. “Hey. Nice to see you again,” he added with a crooked smile.

Blago waved, awkwardly. “Hey, Dermid,” she managed to get out. Dermid looked at her intently until a sharp bark down the hall required his attention. Ms. Ramos and her two pugs, the apparently digestively sensitive Skywalkers, waited in the hall. All three of them looked lost.

“Ms. Ramos,” Su Jin turned, apparently done with Blago, “I think this food will work out great for you—”

Blago slipped back out the front. What was Dermid’s deal, anyway?


	5. Riverdale Farm and a Late-Night Vet Visit

The hunger compelled them back to the farm. Drew them to it. There was a deliciously slick, satisfying energy where the Tanuki boss had fallen. The closer they got to it, the calmer they became. And they hadn’t been calm in days. Not since that night.

He set up in a dark corner across the way and breathed it in, eyes closed, mouth open. One breath after another, and the hunger quieted for another night.

***

Blago used to play capture the flag in the woods behind a neighbour’s house every summer. All the neighbourhood kids would dress in black or dark browns and greens, smear camouflage paint across their faces, and go absolutely wild trying to steal one of two old walking sticks from the other team. They had all taken the game incredibly seriously.

The important part was that Blago knew, if you planned on sneaking into somewhere — say a farm late at night— you should probably dress the part. Which is why she had dug up a slightly-too-small black turtleneck gifted to her a few Christmases back, dark pants, work boots, the works.

But she didn’t have any face paint, or anything even like face paint. She didn’t actually own any makeup.

She texted Lau.

Do you have any face paint I can borrow? Or like… black lipstick???

Lau called her immediately. “It sounds like you’re about to do something moronic and you didn’t ask for my help,” she said instead of hello. “Luckily for you, I am a very giving person, and I’m willing to overlook this a second time.” Luckily for Blago, it sounded like Lau had calmed down since storming out of the shop, but Blago knew that tone. It meant a third time would assuredly not be overlooked.

“Lau, dearest—” she began, but Lau quickly interrupted.

“—Which means I’ll come with you to keep you from getting arrested. Or killed,” Lau added as an afterthought. “And you’re not borrowing my lipstick, even if you do have a lovely mouth.” And then she promptly hung up on Blago.

Blago texted her dad Do you have any like night-vision goggles or grease paint or something? and unfortunately the reply she got back read No because that doesn’t sound like anything you need for a date with a respectable young man or woman, Blago. Aren’t you too old for the bad boy type?

Why did she ever text her dad, again?

Which was how Blago found herself waiting out front of her shop, looking like a French cat burglar and trying to enjoy the breeze from the lake. Though there wasn’t much left of it by the time it made it past Queen Street.

Lau pulled up outside her shop in a sleek little sports car she must have borrowed from one of her on-again, off-again girlfriends just as Dermid waved goodbye to what must have been his last client of the day.

Blago waved at him awkwardly, but Dermid’s eyes stuck on Lau in the driver’s seat. He waved briefly and turned back inside his shop, flicking the lights off immediately.

“Are you going to pine all night, or are you getting in?” Lau asked testily. She never did like to be kept waiting.

“I’m coming.” Blago slid into the passenger seat. “Do you think Dermid was acting weird?” she asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

Lau snorted, delicately. “Define weird.”

They stayed silent for a few minutes before Blago finally cracked. “Sorry about before.”

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” Lau asked. So she was still mad.

Saying no would definitely be the wrong answer, so Blago hazarded a guess. “Uhh, not practicing? And not calling you?”

“For not taking care of yourself,” Lau replied sharply. She sighed, resigned. “Blago, you’re my best friend. If you don’t practice, if you don’t ask for help, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Please. Toronto has an incredibly low crime rate,” Blago tried, but Lau would not have it.

“Be serious. This work you’re doing, what we’re doing right now — it’s not a joke! Three people have died that we know of, and you have to take it seriously or you could be next! And I— I don’t know what I would do without you,” she added. Her voice trembled. Blago, never sure what to do with messy emotions, looked away. Lau had always been the strong one, the put together one, the one with the plan. Blago came along for the ride.

“Probably rule the city with an iron fist,” Blago mumbled, but she got it. She did. “I’ll be more careful,” she added, and that seemed to be enough for Lau, for the moment at least.

The remainder of the drive to Riverdale Farm passed quickly. Lau pulled the car into a dim laneway a short distance from the farm itself and killed the engine. “We should walk from here,” she said and shivered in the night air. Blago had always run plenty warm, but Lau ran cold, and they were close to one of the city’s most famous cemeteries.

To Blago it seemed some days Toronto was a small town pretending to be a big city, full of people trying to embrace the new and the old simultaneously. Not many cities could claim to have a fully functioning farm not far east of the downtown core, sprawling along either side of the Don River and the Don Valley Parkway. But Toronto had been built on a network of old earth magic, tying all the pieces together, and spots like Riverdale Farm helped the city thrive.

Nearly eight acres of farmland, woods, and ponds sat tucked away there, though Blago had only visited twice. It was popular with schoolchildren, the farmer’s market crowd, and tourists. Blago had never been keen on field trips.

They headed in along River Street and wound their way up and into the farm. The hilly dirt road branched off and over a fence in several directions.

“I can feel something,” Lau whispered.

“Like what?”

Lau tilted her head to catch something Blago couldn’t hear. “A recent death, but not today. And… something else? I’m not sure,” she added, clearly frustrated.

Cow and goat paddocks lined either side of the lane, and Blago remembered the lingering smell of grass-manure-livestock from long drives out of the city on cottage weekends during the summer — sweet and clean.

“This way,” Lau said after a moment. She reached out and grabbed hold of Blago’s hand, the better to tug her to the right, down a smaller path which turned into cobblestones with dense foliage on either side.

Something about the direction Lau headed in unsettled Blago as she stumbled after her. The hair on her arms stood up and she hunched her shoulders automatically. The farm remained quiet. Unnaturally so.

“Do you sense that?” Blago whispered.

Lau nodded, curt and visibly discomfited.

A slick, oily energy dripped from the farm. The uneasy, greasy magic spilling over everything must have come from the remnants of some kind of dark magic. It reminded her eerily of the Campbell House Museum had only a few days ago. Again the hair on her arms stood up straight, though she wasn’t particularly cold. The closer they drew to the centre of the farm, the stronger the energy grew. Her skin crawled with it.

“There’s some kind of warped magic residue all along this path.” She drew her finger in a long arc.

“And a death trail,” Lau agreed. “Like someone dragging a fresh kill in this direction.”

“A fresh kill like… a pig?” Blago asked with a gesture toward the pig-pen, where several massive hogs snored in wheezy snorts.

“No.” Lau gave her a withering glance. “Like a person. Sort of.”

‘Sort of’ didn’t sound promising.

Up ahead, over an arched bridge and stream, stood a small structure. It took Blago a moment in the darkness to see that it sat on a very small island, surrounded by the stream on all sides.

“I think I remember this,” Lau whispered. “The Monkey House? Or the Island House?”

“One of those is significantly creepier than the other, Lau,” Blago hissed back. “God I hope it’s called the Island House.”

Lau shrugged. “Either way, that’s where it’s coming from — one recent, and more, older.”

“How old?”

She frowned. “What am I, a carbon dating expert? How should I know?”

“You’re a seer! You literally sense death and stuff!”

Lau sniffed, clearly offended, but before she could retort a person flew backwards through one of the windows of the Monkey House with a loud crash. They landed with a wet thud on the far bank of the river, closer to Blago and Lau. Two men leaped out the window, landing more gracefully a short distance away.

Whoever lay on the ground stayed very still, but the men still approached cautiously. At first Blago thought she had imagined it, but the light seemed to bend somehow around their eyes. A shadow fell across their faces like a burglar’s mask.

“Shit,” Blago said. She and Lau crouched, frozen in the shadow of the bridge, hands clasped tight. “Which side is the good guys, do you think?”

“Probably the person who got thrown out the window,” Lau replied. She dropped Blago’s hand and stood up straight.

“They’re going to see you!” Blago hissed and tugged frantically at her sleeve.

Lau glanced down at her and rolled her eyes. “That’s the point.” Before she could take whichever crazy next step she had planned though, the obnoxious ringtone Blago had assigned to her dad blared out at max volume.

And I would do any! Thing! For love! But I won’t do that~!

Blago slapped at her phone until the sound stopped, but too late. That’s what she got for switching it off silent. Stupid Eve and her demands.

The two men turned, and as their faces came clearer into view, the shadow-mask across their faces struck Blago as very similar to the little bandit mask sported by raccoons.

She had only ever heard about the Tanuki before, never seen them in person —but to be fair, she had never come into contact with organized crime before, either. In Japan, she knew Tanuki were raccoon-like trickster spirits. In Toronto? Some of them had formed a ring of petty criminals who seemed impossible to stamp out.

Lau rose to her feet, and Blago, less gracefully, followed.

“Hey, you’re that witch from Yonge street!” One of the Tanuki exclaimed. He turned from the body on the ground and stepped forward, closer. “Tell us what you did to Abe.”

Blago didn’t know who Abe was, and she didn’t particularly care. She just wanted to get out of there, fast. The Tanuki had a reputation for shady black market dealing, and the last thing she needed was to get caught up in any of their business. Already they knew her face, and she didn’t like that at all.

Lau, on the other hand, showed no fear. “Is Abe your boss?” she asked, as though it was the most normal thing, a casual conversation between strangers breaking into a farm on a Wednesday night. 

“He was,” the same Tanuki replied. Seeing his eyes gleaming out from the darkness disconcerted her; the neatness of their suits in the middle of a rural setting, the stark line of a knife holster crossed tight over a thigh. Apparently even trash-panda mobsters dressed the part.

More disconcerting, though —Blago spotted the person behind the Tanuki, struggling upright, her tight blonde curls lit unnaturally within at the same time her face shifted into something more feral and wild, the hint of massive wings sketched out behind her.

Eve. “It’s Eve!” Blago elbowed Lau repeatedly until Lau pushed back.

Eve’s chest heaved. She half-limped, half-crept closer behind the two mobsters, a furious snarl pulled tight across her face. How they hadn’t noticed the light she cast, Blago had no idea. Lau continued to talk at them but Blago tuned her out, fixated on the scene before them.

Eve flexed her hands, her fingers tipped in bright, sharp points. Before she could make use of them, Lau stopped mid-sentence and screamed.

Blago wouldn’t be ashamed to say she collapsed instantly, hands over her ears, curled tight around them in a futile effort to block out the sound. The sound swallowed everything, piercing and overwhelming. Blago’s vision greyed out as she clapped her hands over her ears. It made her want to puke up every meal she’d ever eaten right on the spot. It was the chilling sound of every spirit whose death Lau had ever witnessed; anguish unleashed.

“Lau, stop! Please stop,” she cried out, curled into herself on the ground. She couldn’t say how long Lau screamed, whether it was a minute or an hour. Time ceased to have any linear structure; the overwhelming pressure of her scream became the only thing Blago knew until finally Lau grabbed Blago by the elbow and hauled her to her feet.

“Come on, you big baby.” She dragged Blago towards the fallen Tanuki, the opposite direction of where Blago wanted to go. Thankfully, they stayed still, curled up on the ground, hands clawed around their ears as they cried into the grass and dirt.

Blago sympathized.

“We’ve got to get your friend out of here, fast,” Lau said, pressing forward towards Eve.

Blago had mostly forgotten about her. Eve also lay collapsed on the ground, and worse still she was injured, one leonine foot twisted at an unnatural angle.

“It’s just two fucking Tanuki. I can handle this!” Eve growled as she tried to get to her feet. Tried being the operative word: as soon as she put weight on her injured foot she collapsed with a yelp.

“Or you could just say thank you and let us get you out of here,” Lau suggested sweetly. “Or are you too dumb to know when you’re beaten?”

Eve closed her eyes briefly, clearly embarrassed, then finally held out her hands. “Fine. Would you please help me?” she gritted out.

“We would be delighted.”

Blago managed to swallow down the bile in her throat at the sight of Eve’s foot, still bent unnaturally, and grabbed one of her arms as Lau took the other. Together the three of them stumbled as quickly as they could back down the path to the street. Together, the three of them hobbled as quickly as possible downhill towards the exit— a small blessing.

By the time they got to the car Blago’s shirt stuck to her skin with sweat as she panted for breath. Thank goodness for whoever Lau had borrowed the car from, because with the press of a button the rear door unlocked and slid open so they could haphazardly shove Eve into the back seat.

She gasped in pain when she fell inside, but otherwise remained silent except for her rapid breath, her face still half-shifted although her glow had died down to something approaching natural. Lau slipped into the driver’s seat and buckled up, casual as anything before she pulled smoothly back onto the street at exactly the speed limit.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Blago asked as she fumbled for her own belt. “Step on it! They could be right behind us!”

“Thank you, Lau, you really saved us, Lau,” she said sarcastically. “Try to remember: I’m the brains of this relationship. Do you want to get pulled over by the police? No,” she answered without waiting for Blago to speak up, “No you do not because we have a half-lion woman with a broken leg in the back seat as we flee the scene of a murder.” She glanced up at the rear-view mirror, where she could probably see Eve.

“Sphinx,” Eve muttered. “Nice to meet you too, McScreamy.”

“Sphinx, lion, who cares?” Lau brushed her off. “I don’t want to be the one explaining this mess to some mundane cop.” She met Eve’s eyes again in the rear-view mirror. “Do you?”

“No,” Eve and Blago agreed in mulish harmony.

“That’s what I thought.” Lau sat silent for a moment, her hands gripped tight around the steering wheel as they headed back into the city proper. “Now where are we going?”

***

“I’m not an animal, Blago!” Eve hissed.

Blago ignored her and leaned on the doorbell a little harder. “Yeah, well, right now I think this is our best option, unless you’ve got a better idea.”

She didn’t, and Blago knew it. Even Lau was on board.

Blago slipped one hand free from where she and Lau kept Eve upright and jammed her finger against the doorbell, not letting up even as her finger started to go numb from the pressure. After a long minute, she could hear the distant thud of footfalls, and after another minute, Dermid opened the door.

She had forgotten how late it was, but obviously they had dragged Dermid from something. Under his bathrobe Blago could see a worn t-shirt, pyjama pants, bare feet covered in dirt, as though he had been sleep walking or gardening. That’s strange, Blago thought. I didn’t think Dermid had a garden. Her own shop certainly didn’t have any green space out back.

“What the hell, Blago?” Dermid growled, hair mussed and eyes sleepy. Too handsome. “Do you know what time it is?” Blago, stuck on the whole barefoot and sleepy look, forgot to answer.

“This place smells like shit,” Eve muttered ungratefully.

Lau elbowed past Dermid, Blago and Eve pulled along in her wake. “It’s an emergency,” she said, ignoring Eve’s comment. “Where’s your exam room? Back here?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

“On the left,” Blago confirmed.

“You know, there are several excellent hospitals only a few blocks from here.” But Dermid had closed the door and turned to follow them down the hall to the first open exam room. “You might have heard of them. A hospital is where normally you would take an injured person. We even have free healthcare.”

Eve hissed as Blago and Lau hitched her up onto the table. Her face shifted into that half-lion, half-woman combination again and she snarled.

Dermid stopped, grabbed onto the doorframe and then rubbed at his eyes. “Uhhhh.”

It was far from the worst reaction Blago had seen to a swift introduction to the supernatural. “You can see why we couldn’t exactly go to the hospital.” Blago watched him carefully. “I figure, she’s sort of part lion—”

“How many times do I have to say I’m a sphinx, dumbass?” Eve muttered, but Blago ignored her. “Show some respect.”

“—and you’re a vet. Seemed like the logical choice.” She shrugged, and turned back to Eve. Lau had already begun to gently tug Eve’s knee-high boot off the injured leg. “Don’t you need to scrub up or something?”

Dermid still stood in the doorway, his jaw dropped unattractively. “She’s— not human,” he repeated dully. “But that’s impossible.”

“Dude, I run a magic shop; she’s a sphinx. Stuff happens. Come on, we need your help!”

Lau stayed quiet during this exchange; she looked Eve over, assessing her carefully under the bright lights of the exam room. As Lau finished tugging the boot off, Eve dug her claws into the metal exam table, which bent and creaked under her fingers with a shrill screech. The sound seemed to startle Dermid into action.

“You’re paying for a replacement or repair,” he said sharply and then shrugged out of his robe, tossing it over a chair in the corner and scrubbing up before pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves. “Okay.” He took a deep breath, focussed finally on the problem, “Tell me what happened.”

Eve growled as he gripped her foot firmly in one hand. “I was attacked by a pair of dumbass mobsters who are going to seriously regret messing with me,” she lisped around the fangs, and Blago didn’t doubt her. “I can’t walk, and my ankle is turning into a giant purple balloon. What else do you need to know?”

She wasn’t wrong. Now they had removed the boot, Blago could see her swollen leg clearly. But actually-- “How did they get the drop on you, anyway?” Blago asked absently. “I thought a head of Chimera would be pretty much able to take a whole herd of them out no problem.”

Eve scowled at Blago, a flush high on her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she growled.

“I think it’s dislocated,” Dermid interrupted as he gently prodded at the skin. Eve hissed around her fangs. “I’m going to have to pop it back into place.” He looked up and met her eyes. “It’s going to hurt, but it’ll feel better afterwards.”

“We’ll help hold her down,” Lau volunteered, pinning Eve’s left leg to the table as best she could. Blago followed suit. She and Lau might not have looked like much, but appearances could be deceiving.

Dermid swallowed hard and took a deep breath. With her ankle gripped firmly in both hands he asked, “Ready? On three. One, two—” and then he immediately yanked Eve’s foot down and right with a sick, loud pop.

“Three,” he finished meekly over Eve’s roar.

“You fucking—” Eve snarled, but Dermid seemed unbothered, immediately wrapping her foot tightly with medical tape and two cold gel packs from the mini fridge in the corner.

“How does that feel?” he asked, miraculously calm considering he had been panicked a few minutes prior.

Eve stopped glaring at him in order to take stock. “Actually, that is a little better,” she admitted grudgingly. “I guess you’re alright.”

“We should still x-ray it, and you’ll need to stay off it. I can make a fibreglass splint to keep it in place, maybe…” he trailed off to stare intently at her foot. “Does it matter that the injury happened when you were…?”

“Hey, eyes up here,” Eve said with a sharp snap of her fingers. “I don’t need any of that. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Thanks for the help.” She swung her legs over the side of the exam table.

Dermid stepped forward as if to stop her but Eve froze him in his tracks with a single glance. Blago wished she had that power.

“You can’t just walk off a dislocated ankle, I don’t care what you are,” he said firmly. “At the very least you need crutches.”

They stared at each other intently for a long minute before Eve rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she huffed. “Then hurry it up, handsome.”

Lau, of course, appeared completely bored by the whole thing. She actually stopped to touch up her lipstick, not that she needed it. “Do you even have crutches here?” she asked absently. “In a vet’s office?”

Dermid’s avoided eye contact. “I have a pair upstairs,” he admitted weakly and turned to Blago. “Don’t let her leave. I’ll be right back.”

In the quiet, they could hear the stairs creak gently under his weight.

“So,” Blago said into the awkward silence which followed. “Dermid’s cool, right?”

Eve bared her teeth at her, and Blago took a step back. “You brought me to a mundane,” she hissed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Dermid will be fine. I’ll take full responsibility for him.” And she meant it. Dermid might have been mundane, but he seemed to be a genuinely good person. Frankly, if he could deal with the kind of people who booked mani-pedis for their poodles, he could handle a little supernatural mayhem.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied and turned to Lau, who snapped her compact shut with a loud click. “And you. Don’t think you’re in the clear on this one.”

Lau slipped her compact back into her purse. “Sweetie, I am the last person you want on your bad side,” she said with a cutting smile. “Just say thank you and get over it.”

Something about the way she and Eve stared at each other stuck in Blago’s brain, but she couldn’t quite get the idea to hold still. They both had such strong personalities, she couldn’t guess what would happen next.

Eve tilted her head to the side, examined Lau for who knew what and broke out in a smile. She offered her hand to shake. “I like you,” she said decisively, and they shook on it. “Have you ever considered joining the Business Improvement Association?”

“I was thinking more city council,” Lau said archly, “but I’m sure we have several mutual interests.” She pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to Eve. “Call me.”

“We'll do lunch," Eve agreed easily, but she bit her lip after as she tucked the card inside her jacket. Nervously? Blago wasn’t sure.

She watched the whole exchange with mild confusion, not unlike the feeling she had when she and Lau first became friends. Only back then, it had been more like Lau steamrolling her life for her own good. This exchange had a completely different energy, but in a way she couldn’t quite pin down. Electric, maybe. More fraught with tension. 

“Tomorrow, I want to hear the full story about what you were doing at Riverdale,” Blago cut in, breaking the moment. Eve kept a lot from Blago.

"I’ll stop by your shop,” Eve agreed. “You can tell your boyfriend it's safe to come in," she added with a pointed look at the door.

"My what now?" Blago asked. "I don't have a boyfriend."

Dermid chose that moment to slip back inside the room, a pair of crutches tucked under one arm. His faux-nonchalance was ruined by the sheepish grin he gave Blago before he ducked his head and turned to Eve.

"See if these work for you."

Eve tucked the crutches under her arms and managed to stand with no apparent difficulty.

"Thanks, handsome," she replied. "No hard feelings," and patted him on the shoulder. "Can you give me a ride?" she asked Lau.

"Of course," Lau agreed. She kissed Blago on the cheek and led Eve outside.

"Okay, goodnight, you're welcome for the rescue, etcetera," Blago called to the space they had just vacated. "See you around."

"You know they can't hear you, right?" Dermid asked.

"Oh, they can hear me," Blago muttered to herself. Or at least, she wouldn't put it past either of them. "But seriously, thanks." She smiled up at Dermid. "I didn't know where else to go."

Dermid, still adorably rumpled and barefoot, looked puzzled. "Anytime. But uh, do you often fight crime with your girlfriend in the middle of the night?"

"First time for everything. But I owe you an explanation — just, maybe in the morning? Sorry we woke you up, but I'll treat you to breakfast. There's a sort of healthy Quebecois place on Carlton?"

"Cora's." Dermid nodded. "Sure, I'd really like that."

It almost sounded like a date. Reading people had never been Blago’s forté, especially when it came to potentially romantic encounters. "Meet you there at ten?" she suggested and Dermid agreed.

After, she jogged back across the street and upstairs to Felicia, who meowed a whole scolding narrative at her. Blago gave her ears a massage, and barely remembered to set the alarm on her phone before pressing her face into the cool pillow, her eyes already heavy.


	6. Breakfast, and a Body

The décor inside Cora's treaded a line between farmhouse chic - fake chickens and eggs, with bright cheery yellow walls - and kid-friendly, covered in loose cartoon drawings of flowers. The menu, Blago knew, would probably suit both her and Dermid. At ten on a Saturday the brunch crowd rush started to filter in, and hospital staff, paramedics, firefighters, and police officers crowded around the tables, all coming off shift in the busy hospital district.

Blago swung a booth in the back where they probably wouldn’t be overheard and flipped through the menu while she waited for Dermid.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Dermid apologized as he slid into the booth. Blago checked her phone. It was barely two past. Apparently on weekends he dressed like a fancy lumberjack: his plaid shirt and jeans both tighter than she expected, especially since he normally dressed in a lab coat.

They made small talk over the menu until a server came to take their order: something healthy and full of fruit for Dermid, crêpes with the works for Blago.

"So what do you want to know?" Blago asked.

Dermid wrapped his hands around a hot mug of coffee even though the temperatures soared into the high 30s. "Everything.” He smiled, lopsided and charming and Blago had to look away.

"Everything, eh?"

She couldn’t tell him everything-everything, but a fair amount seemed safe to share. She started with Eve hiring her for a job and had to backtrack to explain the BIA as best she could. She didn’t get very far before Dermid cut in.

"Right, but why you?"

Blago tugged at one earlobe and slid her gaze to the foyer where a few families lined up waiting for a table. "I mean, I'm not the most experienced witch," she admitted, "but I've got some raw power, and I'm not affiliated with anyone. I'm pretty neutral. And a friend recommended me."

"Raw power," Dermid repeated, clearly skeptical.

"Yes? I’m a witch. You've been in my magic shop?"

They paused as the server dropped off their food. When he left gone, Dermid continued, "You sell whoopee cushions. What about that was supposed to tell me you're some kind of real-life Harry Dresden?”

“You read Jim Butcher?” She had mixed feelings about that information. Dermid’s eyebrows alone let her know she should get back on track though. “Right, sorry. Not really? I mean I’m not a detective or anything, this is a one-off. I’m pretty sure Eve does not like working with me.” She started cutting up her crepe. Cora’s crepes were large enough to spill over the edges of the wide, oblong plates they were served on, and eating them took practice and strategy.

Dermid huffed a little but gestured for her to carry on. So Blago caught Dermid up on the trip she and Lau had taken to Riverdale Farm, running into Eve, and the fight against the Tanuki.

“You picked a fight with the mob, who are also legendary creatures from Japan, and then fled the scene. To my veterinary practice.”

“Yes?” Blago wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but the longer she talked the more it seemed like she should have stopped already.

“And they’re, what, drug dealers? Thieves? What kind of criminals are we talking about here?”

“Umm,” Blago thought back over what she knew. “It’s mostly petty crime I think? I don’t have much to do with them.”

“But you must know more than that. They’re a problem in your, uh, community,” Dermid pressed. “Shouldn’t Chimera or whoever do something about them? Do they enforce any laws the way the real police do?”

“I guess?” Blago shrugged. “Maybe they are. I don’t really pay attention.”

Dermid rolled his eyes ostentatiously. “How are you still alive?”

“I’m lucky as shit,” Blago replied frankly. She wasn’t, really, but she did all right. “And I’ve got some good friends helping me out.”

“You’re something alright.” He stared at her intently and for longer than she liked. Blago took a deep breath and rededicated herself to her crepe, suddenly uncomfortable with his attention and unsure of how to respond.

“What else do you want to know?”

He opened his mouth to ask another question, then shut it.

“Just ask!”

“Do you have a broomstick? I mean I know you have a broom, but do you ride it places? How does the hat stay on when you’re riding it?” He looked steadily more embarrassed as he continued. It was cute, charming even, and put them back on equal footing.

“I have a bike share membership, does that count?” Blago asked, half-joking. “And sometimes I even spring for a metropass.” At his flat look, she continued. “I don’t even know if riding a broom is possible. I haven’t tried it? But I’m pretty sure I don’t want to end up in someone’s insta story for riding one downtown. And I don’t own any cool witch hats. That would be pretty suspect.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dermid frowned. “But you cast spells, right? And do magic?”

“Hey, Blago, who’s your friend?”

Blago glanced up to see Sergeant Warner next to their table. “Hey, David! Good to see you.” She gestured to Dermid, “This is Dr. Flannagan, and he owns the veterinary practice across the street from me. Dermid, Sergeant David Warner.”

“Oh,” David said, eyebrows raised.

Mentally, Blago tried to stare the message of _be cool!_ directly into David’s brain. It must have worked, because he didn’t say anything horribly embarrassing, though he did give Dermid a very thorough once-over, shaking his hand for an uncomfortable length of time. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dermid repeated. He continued the hand shake, staring intently at Warner. Whether Dermid thought they competed in some kind of macho posturing or not didn’t seem to matter. Warner eyed him up and down hungrily. Clearly the two communicated _something_ to each other, but they might not have been speaking the same language.

“Uh, are you guys done or…?” Blago trailed off and thankfully Dermid finally slipped free of the handshake.

By the bamboozled expression on his face, Warner might never have been done with Dermid. “Does your dad know you’re out with him?” he asked, gesturing at Dermid.

“Oh, jeez. No. Emphatically no,” Blago squeaked, “and if you tell him I will end you.”

He had the temerity to laugh. “Okay, whatever you say.” His grin was Cheshire-cat wide and just as toothy. “But your dad has kind of a nose for this sort of thing.”

“Get out of here, before he hears his name on the astral plane and we accidentally summon him or something,” she hissed. Warner waved over one shoulder before heading to his own table further inside.

Dermid leaned forward over the table. “Your dad can be summoned by his name?” he asked, wide-eyed and all too interested. “How does that work?”

And even though she knew it was rude, Blago couldn’t help but laugh at him. “No, no, sorry, it’s—” He looked so affronted, and she tried to wave him off, but it took a minute for her to get control back. “My dad is totally mundane, just like you.” Dermid’s face fell. “And he prefers it that way! But he has this aggravating fixation on finding me a man to settle down with— white picket fence, the works.” She shrugged and dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “I guess he really wants grandkids.”

Dermid frowned seriously. “He doesn’t accept your— lifestyle?” he said after an awkward pause. “I mean, it’s not like you need a guy to have kids.” He seemed way more offended by the idea than Blago expected, especially considering they hardly knew each other.

And sure. If she wanted kids she could adopt but, it wasn’t something she had ever been interested in, and she wasn’t likely to change her mind either. The more she encountered people who sagely told her she would want children one day, or that her biological clock was ticking, the clearer that became. Kids were not for Blago, and other than her dad, neither were people who insisted she would want them just because she identified as female.

“He means well, I guess,” she said instead of getting too deep into it. “It’s just annoying.”

“If you say so,” Dermid replied doubtfully. He obviously wanted to say more, but didn’t.

Blago took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. It just wasn’t a topic she wanted to get into with the guy she had a massive crush on over brunch.

“Anyway, I never attended meetings because they sound super boring,” a half truth, “and now we’re here,” she finished with jazz hands even though Dermid didn’t seem like the jazz-hands type. True to form, he appeared unfazed by the gesture.

He pushed at one of two sad, remaining slices of cantaloupe absently, clearly deep in thought.

“Just spit it out, dude,” Blago said. “Seriously. I’ve heard it all.”

His mouth twisted in a wry slant to the left. “How has no one noticed any of this? How did I not notice any of this?”

“People see what they want to see,” Blago said quietly. “You’ve been in my shop. You saw the whoopee cushions up front and basically didn’t look past them, even though I told you the good stuff was in the back.” The _somebody else’s problem_ field wasn’t that strong, after all. Children saw past it all the time.

“I thought you were joking,” he replied, but his gaze dipped back down to his coffee mug and he bit his lip. “People see what they want to see, eh?” he mumbled.

They did, and it often worked in her favour.

***

Dermid grabbed the bill on the way out, and while they waited in line for the cashier she received a text from Eve.

You wanted info? Be at the provincial coroner’s office in ten.

Blago spotted Lau on the chain, too, which reassured her, but something about the text still rubbed her the wrong way. Eve’s authoritative demands in general had that effect on her. She always held something back, and Blago liked to ask question after question until she had all the facts. Eve very clearly did not like questions.

She forced herself to reply with just a short okay instead of asking why. Not that Blago would pass up the opportunity to get some answers in person. A small part of Blago didn’t like how Eve and Lau had hit it off so quickly. Lau was _her_ best friend and she didn’t want to share.

At the cash, Blago absently lifted the lid off a tray of fudge samples to grab a piece, puzzling over their interactions the night before. She was missing something.

Lau had better instincts than nearly anyone else Blago had ever met, and she should trust her reactions, but Eve unnerved her.

Luckily, the coroner’s office wasn’t far from Cora’s, or even from her shop. The unremarkable building sat on the same street as police headquarters and most people who lived in the neighbourhood didn’t even really notice it.

“What was that about?” Dermid asked as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket.

“I’ve got to meet Eve and Lau. Something about the case,” she said. “But I’m headed back up Yonge — are you going that way?”

“Oh, I’m actually headed east.” He pointed towards Church Street as they stepped back out into the humidity. “Thanks for this,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied. “Next time it’ll be my treat.”

“Sounds like a date.”

Blago swallowed hard as she looked up at him. “See you around?”

“See you around,” he agreed and jogged quickly across Carlton.

Now that he wasn’t wearing a lab coat, she could fully appreciate the view. She watched him for a second before another text came in, this time from Lau.

 _You better not still be asleep_ it read and right, right. She needed to get to the coroner’s office, _fast_.

Blago hurried the short distance to the coroner despite the heat. Partly to not piss off either Lau or Eve, and partly because she hoped the coroner’s office would be heavily air conditioned. The heat weighed down on her, oppressive. By lunch she knew the air would be like soup.

The large, squat building with rounded edges and thick vertical grooves sat tucked between two apartment buildings and obscured by a row of frail-looking saplings out front. It wasn’t old enough to have dug into the city and connected to the underlying magical energy which threaded between many of the older buildings, but it had seen a lot of death, solemn and unceasing, which loaned it an atmosphere that didn’t match its strange modern architecture. The old energy that should have called out to Blago instead had been muffled.

She had grown used to the electric shiver which went up her spine when she browsed at Eliot’s bookshop, or the nostalgic fizz of Maple Leaf Gardens, remnant of sports fans past. The coroner’s office felt more akin to a forgotten temple, but it didn’t quite line up in her head.

There were still actual offices there, the dull thrum of people doing paperwork, signing off emails with best, swearing at jammed printers. Office buildings usually had flat, slow and hollow energy, if any at all. Dead bodies had a specific and constant hum like a far-off wail.

The coroner’s office had both.

Lau waited out front, ostentatiously checking her watch and sticking close to the shrubbery, a dark-lined parasol clutched in one hand against the sun. The north side of the street had no shade in the morning, and Blago’s skin already ran slick with sweat and sun and heat. Lau, of course, looked as though she had just stepped out of a yacht-wear spread. Nervous, but well put-together.

“I’m not late,” Blago called out before anything else. “In fact I’m right on time!”

“Yes, and I’m very proud of you.” Lau rolled her eyes and linked her free arm through Blago’s left. “Let’s get inside before Eve changes her mind. You need all the information you can get.”

“No kidding,” Blago muttered. “You look nice,” she added.

“I always look nice,” Lau replied airily, avoiding eye contact. Strange.

Blago had to look twice to spot the entrance – an unassuming door well back from the street and tucked into a corner near the parking ramp. Built into the wall there she found an old buzzer button and a newer RFID reader, which made sense. She supposed they didn’t want just anybody wandering in off the street and getting into the morgue. Before Lau could press the button, though, the door swung open and Eve gestured them inside.

“Get in here before someone sees you,” she said lowly.

“Are we not supposed to be here?” Lau asked archly as she folded up her parasol. Her hands trembled, but her expression stayed sharp.

They stepped inside anyway. Blago somehow expected the building to be dark, but instead found it brightly lit by buzzy fluorescents along the ceiling, with the beige semi-industrial look of most government-run buildings. The air, at least, smelled fresher than Blago had anticipated.

“The coroner’s on lunch,” Eve replied, sidestepping an actual answer, “but her assistant owes me a favour, so we’ve got a few minutes.” She swiped a pass card through a reader in the elevator and pressed the button for the basement.

When they had been kids, Lau and Blago got into all sorts of scrapes, so Blago immediately recognized the look on Lau’s face and translated it to I’m blaming you if we get caught.

Whatever. Blago would blame Eve and it would be fine. Probably.

The basement, Blago realized, must have been where the actual morgue sat. She had only ever seen them on TV before, glossy and dim with dramatic lighting. The reality was more in keeping with a very, very large bathroom.

The walls and floor were completely tiled and the space echoed, bright with more cheap fluorescents which buzzed low and constant.

“Put this on,” Eve said abruptly and shoved a pile of crinkly fabric at her. “Quickly.”

“Scrubs?” Blago pulled a face.

“You’ll put them on unless you want to explain why your hair is on the body later,” Eve said sharply.

That sounded good enough for Blago, whose DNA would come up as a familial match in a search with her dad on file as an officer. The fabric stuck to the drying sweat on her arms and legs. Hopefully they would get washed before someone else needed to use them.

Lau’s mouth shifted into a moue of distaste but she, too, hurried into the extra layers. They took turns tucking each other’s hair fully under the paper caps, and then pushed through the doors into the morgue proper.

The body had already been stretched out on one of the examination tables, unnaturally still and pale. Blago shivered at the sight of him. It belonged to a tall, thin Japanese man, maybe in his late 60s, with a thick head of greying hair and strong frown lines around his mouth.

“This is the one who died at Riverdale,” Lau said immediately.

“And he smells like Tanuki,” Eve confirmed. The Japanese raccoon-dogs were one of the most ubiquitous facets of Toronto’s criminal underbelly; mischievous shape shifters. “They handle a lot of the drug trade and petty theft, both mundane and magical,” she explained with a frown. “I haven’t had a chance to figure out what else they’re involved in yet, but they’re a thorn in my side.”

Blago had never dealt with them directly, but she knew not to cross them. No wonder the other members of the gang were looking for a fight; for someone to take the blame.

“His name was Hideyoshi Abe, and he smells like a corpse, nothing else,” someone else spoke up, and Blago just about jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t noticed him at all, which seemed impossible when he stepped up to the table. Tall and dark-skinned, he had a defenceman’s build and a surprisingly soft voice.

“My nose is a lot better than yours, Jahni,” Eve said, tugging him closer. “Jahni’s my man on the inside,” she added to Blago and Lau.

He frowned at the description but didn’t dispute her claim, only gestured at the corpse. “Do you want to know what happened or not?”

“Thank you,” Lau nodded, “we would appreciate it.”

Jahni sighed, long-suffering, and Blago had an instant, terrible vision of herself in the future if she kept doing work for Eve. But how did people actually say no to her? She had a steam-roller quality not unlike Lau.

“The coroner listed the cause of death as heart failure due to heat-related stress,” Jahni said as he tugged the sheet down slightly to expose the chest. “We’ve had a lot of those already this summer. The case came to us originally because of who he is and where he died.”

“At Riverdale Farm,” Blago cut in.

Jahni scowled. “Yes,” he continued, “in the middle of the night, without permission to be there, and supposedly alone.”

“And you say supposedly because…?” Lau asked, still standing well back from the table, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched artfully. Lau’s eyebrow game intimidated strangers and friends alike. Blago had been on the receiving end of it a lot.

“Heart failure is code for ‘we don’t know but probably natural causes’. It literally means the heart stopped working, but there are a lot of reasons for that to happen — mundane and magical.”

Blago’s mother’s heart had stopped in her office on an average Tuesday afternoon. “Okay, but it is a real cause of death,” she said defensively. “Sometimes people just have a weak heart, or a blockage, or, any number of things.”

Not that Blago knew the specific reason in her mother’s case. Being in her late 40s, the EMTs arriving at the scene hadn’t seen any reason for an autopsy. Sometimes, people just died.

Jahni’s lip curled. “Only a lazy practitioner wouldn’t look closer. Especially in a case like this. And if it were heart disease or a blockage, they would note that. In this case, the coroner didn’t find any congenital heart defects. No blockages. It just stopped beating.”

Blago glared at Jahni, ready to keep arguing, but Lau clasped her hand tightly and tugged her back from the table another step. “In this case,” she said, “I’m sure the coroner had ideas.”

Jahni frowned at her and darted a quick glance to Eve. “She thought it might be heat stroke. I disagree. It has been hot out, but it cools down enough at night that he should have been fine. When you put that together with the fact that more than one person has died the same way recently, and they’re all part of our community, something doesn’t smell right.”

“Nothing in here smells right,” Blago muttered and then yelped as Lau elbowed her in the side.

He didn’t look particularly impressed with either of them invading the morgue. “You’ve got about fifteen minutes until my boss comes back from lunch, so,” he gestured loosely at the body.

“So…?” Blago repeated, confused.

Eve rolled her eyes. “So I thought maybe Lau could pick something up off the corpse, and if that failed, maybe you would be able to figure something out. Between a witch and a seer one of you should be able to get something, right?”

She had a point. Blago gestured for Lau to go ahead. “Ladies first.”

“You’re a lady, too, even if you forget frequently,” she replied sharply and instead of moving towards the table, stepped closer to Blago until they pressed side to side. “I don’t want to do this. You know I don’t,” she whispered just low enough for Blago to hear.

Blago sighed. “I know, but… Lau, I think something really bad is happening here.” The tremor in Lau’s hands hadn’t gone away, and her expression grew steadily less sure. “You the Tanuki last night. Agitated, worked up. If whoever killed their boss is out there, they’re going to cause a lot more trouble trying to put it down. Not to mention anyone else who gets in the way of either side.”

“The Tanuki are barely even a street gang,” Lau countered. “They’re incompetent. They still knock over garbage bins as a show of force.”

“Yeah,” Blago agreed. “And I know you would run them like a well-oiled machine, but it would be super awkward for me if my best friend took charge of a low-level organized crime family.”

That got a small smile out of Lau.

“You don’t have to do much,” she continued. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

Lau closed her eyes for a moment and dropped her forehead against Blago’s shoulder before nodding. “Fine,” she said into the fabric, then straightened and repeated it louder for Eve and Jahni.

She stepped up to the examination table, swallowed visibly, and let her eyes drift shut. Her hands, held palms down over the body, shook like a leaf.

Blago stepped right up beside her, pressing her arm to the cap of Lau’s shoulder. The least she could do was anchor her.

Lau in the act of channelling her gift unsettled and disturbed even people without magic. Blago generally avoided asking Lau to use it for that exact reason; guiltily glad to avoid the experience which did not improve with repeated exposure. They stood in unnatural silence as Lau just stood there, unmoving. When Blago spared a glance, Eve’s expression remained curious and completely focused on Lau. Most people were, like Blago, uncomfortable with or discomfited by it. Jahni looked envious, greedy for a taste of what Lau had.

That was a first, and she wanted to know more, but Blago recognized the frisson of Lau’s power building like a shiver in the air. The already cool morgue seemed to drop another few degrees, but Blago knew what was really happening. Sort of.

When Blago used magic she reached out to the rest of the energy in the area; dug her heels into the old lines of power that ran through everything. When Lau used her abilities, she aimed for almost the exact opposite. Every connection in the room suddenly faded, and instead all the energy Lau had went right into the dark, cold blank space of the corpse. Her magic reacted by throwing up alarms inside, all shouting _Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!_ , even though she knew there Lau’s powers weren’t inherently bad or dangerous.

Lau inhaled sharply. “It was a violent death,” she said, voice strained. Blago couldn’t see a single visible mark or injury on the body, but she believed her. “I’ve never felt anything like this before,” she continued, shoulders hunched. “It’s just wrong.”

“Wrong how?” Eve asked, impatient, but instead of answering, Lau took several rapid steps away from the body, her expression artificially poised even as she brought her arms up to clutch around her middle.

“I don’t know. Blago, hurry up, I want out of here.” She spoke a little too fast, and her fingers went white where they dug into the scrubs.

Whatever happened to Abe had disturbed Lau more than Blago had ever seen. Her own hands shook as she held them out palm-down over the corpse with trepidation before focusing herself.

Just because the morgue housed the dead didn’t mean it wasn’t connected, magically-speaking. Though the connections themselves might have struck most people as unusual, they numbered in the hundreds. The morgue contained an excess of power, and Blago could tap into all of it, but she sifted through the lines mentally, trying to find the ones for their victim specifically.

“What are you doing?” Eve asked.

“When someone dies,” Blago explained, “the rest of us still reach out for that connection. That’s grief. With so many dead passing through here, it’s a nexus of energy trails from people, places, and even familiar objects, all trying to connect with those people and failing.” And it didn’t matter if Hideyoshi Abe had been a criminal, he still had lots of threads trying to connect, except… none of them made contact. The best she could explain it was as though each line approached the body only to pull back, repulsed.

When Blago tried to feel out the lingering magic in Abe’s body, she could see why. “There’s no magic in him,” she gasped and stumbled backwards. Instead of the low embers of magic she would expect from a recent, violent death of a magical creature she found nothing; less than nothing. A gaping void.

“That’s impossible,” Eve said slowly. “He’s a Tanuki. We can all smell it.” Jahni snorted. “Okay, I can smell it,” she corrected.

“If I didn’t know he was Tanuki, I wouldn’t believe you,” Blago replied. “Jahni here has more magic in him just from being alive, and it’s pretty obvious he’s mundane. No offence,” she added.

He scowled at her.

Lau hugged herself, still standing back from the body. “That’s the grieving process,” she explained, her voice small. “When you die there’s a sort of half-life on your own magical energy as it decays and returns to the rest of the world.”

“In physics they say energy can’t be created or destroyed,” Blago continued. “It’s the same thing with magic. After someone dies, you still reach out to them, think about them, and remember them. Each time you get a little less back because they’re gone until you… adjust. Finish grieving.”

“And their magic goes back out in little bits and pieces to new plants or animals or people. But not this time. Not with him,” she added, her face sickly pale.

“So what are you saying, exactly?” Eve asked, impatient.

Blago swallowed, her throat dry. “It’s like someone sucked the magic out of him. They kept it.”

***

When they stepped back out into the heat, Lau looked even paler than usual as she popped open her parasol. Blago looped their free arms together and steered her towards Yonge. “Come on, you look like you could use something sweet.”

“Maybe a little,” Lau agreed. She must have been exhausted. Or overwhelmed. Or both. The idea of all those people unable to ever stop grieving, to go back to living was worse for Lau, who could feel it in a way Blago, with no personal attachments to any of the victims and no seer powers, couldn’t.

Between the loud pop music and neon walls, the froyo place could hardly be considered calming, but she figured Lau could use a vibrant, lively atmosphere to counterbalance what had happened in the morgue. Antonio stood behind the register again, but he looked exhausted.

“Hey, you okay?” Blago asked as they curved around the counter to get to the sample cups. “You don’t look so hot.”

He yawned into his elbow and blinked at them both slowly. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “Just tired.”

Lau hummed, distracted, and grabbed a sample cup. “I didn’t think werewolves got sick,” she said casually.

“Uhh,” he stuttered.

Blago elbowed Lau gently. “It’s hard to sleep when it’s this hot out, right?” she offered. “I only have a window AC unit, and it’s a real pain.”

“Yeah,” Antonio agreed, looking relieved. “Totally.”

When they settled on flavours, he cashed them out quickly, staying tense until they left the shop.

Su Jin, the receptionist at Dermid’s, headed inside as they left. Blago watched as she smoothed out her skirt and brushed her hair back behind her ears before crossing the threshold, nervous. Weird.

“Well he’s not suspicious at all,” Lau said sarcastically when they made it safely out of werewolf hearing range.

“We can’t stereotype him because he’s a werewolf,” Blago countered. “And anyway, it’s none of our business.”

Something niggled in the back of her mind though, and Lau didn’t look convinced, either.

***

Now she had begun to look for it, Su Jin visited the froyo place a lot. At least a few times a week she headed down the street after the rush of lunch-time appointments, always fussing over her appearance on the way.

Unfortunately, Blago didn’t have time for people-watching (“people-creeping”, Lau called it. “You’re not subtle, you know.”) because her inventory was a mess. Several deliveries of raw materials had arrived all at once, and she had sorted them onto the shelves in the back room, but that hadn’t left any time to actually track any of it or make new items, and so whole sections of shelving sat bare. Not great.

Blago crossed her fingers and hoped for a slow day, made sure the bell over the door was in good working order, and headed into the back room.

The space wasn’t huge, but it worked for her needs. She had squeezed as many bookshelves as she could onto the walls; some old crates and a few ratty chairs, rescued from the dumpster out back crowded into the middle. Someone else’s trash was, well, certainly not her treasure, but definitely her decent seating option. At least until Lau showed up with ‘proper’ seating, which Blago expected would happen any day now.

Several of her magic books were stashed on those shelves, as well as extra stock and the aforementioned raw materials.

“What do you think?” she asked Felicia. The little black cat sniffed delicately at a bag of sulphur on a lower shelf and sneezed. “What should we make first?”

The thing was, without anyone to teach her, Blago had sort of pieced things together from books and gut instinct. Mostly it seemed to work out for her, so she decided to go with it again and grabbed whatever on the shelf made her palms itch. If her palms itched, she had probably made the right choice.

Felicia waited for her to set everything on the floor and drop cross-legged down in the middle of it before she squeezed up against Blago’s thigh where she could keep an eye on everything and simultaneously allow Blago the honour of petting her downy-soft fur.

“Supervising, eh?” Blago asked as she stroked along Felicia’s back. Felicia twisted to look up at her with a bright chirrup of a meow before turning back to the pile of supplies: glass jars and little boxes, cheese cloth and ribbon; powdered roots, dried dung, pollen, petals and grave dirt in big mason jars; vials of night-darkness from winter and still running water from the Don River. It was a strange mix, and if she thought about it too hard she would lose the thread. It had happened before.

So Blago consciously forgot about any goal or end game and focused instead on putting together things which seemed to _want_ to be together. The grave dirt and the night-darkness with some still running water made an ink-coloured sludge which she sealed into short glass jars with a ring of wax around the lid for good measure.

“It’s the same colour as you,” she told Felicia, who made an affronted noise. “Though, of course, you’re much prettier.” That comment got her an affectionate head-butt to the knee, but her palms still itched when she shoved the jars off to one side and out of the way.

Sometimes the supplies pulled towards each other almost gravitationally, as though they would topple over trying to get closer to each other if Blago let them. The powdered roots and pollen had a similar tug to them. She couldn’t pick one up without picking up the other, and when she poured them in equal measures into little squares of cheesecloth they seemed to sigh and settle and grow warm. The little piles of brown and gold dust exuded warmth and safety, so she tied them up with somewhat sloppy bows of ribbon.

If her shoelace bows bothered Lau later, she could fix them. Blago saw nothing wrong with a good shoelace bow.

Still left in front of her were the little cardboard boxes Lau had found on sale, a jar of dried dung (still fresh), and an assortment of flower petals. If the previous trio had wanted to be drawn together, these repulsed from each other like magnetic opposites. Still, she wanted to push them together.

Her palms didn’t itch for them, but her fingers went light and hollow inside; the joints seemed to vibrate when she rubbed the dung between her fingers and onto the petals before dropping them into the boxes. They reminded her of the morgue. The stillness down there, the unfulfilled energy of people reaching out for the body of the Tanuki on the table.

At her shoulder, a phantom hand pressed cold and light against the skin, but when Blago turned there was no one there.

She shivered.

“Let’s wash up and we can figure out what to do with these later,” she said to Felicia. She tucked the lids of the boxes closed and stood up too fast, dark spots danced at the edge of her field of vision.

She didn’t quite run out of the back room, but it was close.


	7. Failed Social Endeavours

Blago had been magical from birth. Every living being had a spark inside them, even mundanes, and her mother had always said Blago came into the world with a boom.

She didn’t perform any magical acts accidentally until her terrible twos, but both her parents had been expecting it. Or at least once her mom had come clean about magic and witchcraft and everything else she thought Blago’s dad needed to know — not a lot. Her job as a physics professor didn’t call for much in the way of magic.

“Not that knowing made us better prepared,” her dad said with a sigh over breakfast the next morning. “Your terrible twos were magically-extra-terrible. Just like this omelet.”

“Egg whites and spinach are good for your heart,” Blago responded immediately.

“I guess,” he mumbled and pushed the last few bites around his plate with his fork.

Blago would have felt bad for him if she hadn’t also known he frequented the vending machine at headquarters. “Anyway, how bad could it be? It’s not like I knew any spells. I was two.”

“Don’t let this colour your impressions of the miracle of parenthood,” he said cautiously, “because having you was the best thing that ever happened to your mother and I, other than meeting each other, but you used to throw tantrums that shook the whole house.”

“I was loud?” Blago asked. Every two-year-old specialized in loud as far as she could tell. 

“No, you literally shook the house,” he repeated. “You might not have known any spells, but that didn’t stop you from expressing your unhappiness in the most effective way possible. You broke a lot of vases with ‘only’ pure, uncontrolled magic. At least, that’s how your mother described it. I felt like we had a poltergeist.”

“Don’t even joke about poltergeists,” Blago said reflexively.

He must have believed her, because he dropped it and ate another bite of his omelet, less reluctant when he wasn’t playing dramatic. “Why the questions, anyway?” he asked, and Blago tried to figure out a way to ask without revealing too much of what she had been working on lately. He would worry too much.

“Just wondering how much of me is me, you know, without the magic.”

Her dad hummed a little. “I don’t really think you can separate them,” he said finally. “I mean, what do I know, I’m completely normal—” He paused when she looked at him pointedly, “—sorry, mundane, but you came into this world with magic. Hell, you probably had magic in the womb, I think. Isn’t it the same as, as having red hair or type O blood?”

He snapped his fingers at the idea. “Things change when you get older. Your hair turns grey,” he shrugged, unselfconscious, “or maybe the way your magic works changes. But you’re still you even if you look different or feel different.”

“You know pops, you’re smarter than you look,” she said, hiding a grin behind her mug.

He rubbed at his jaw. “So pretty smart then, eh?”

“Pretty smart,” she agreed and poked at her own food again. “I’ve never worried about grey hairs,” she began, and he snorted. “I haven’t! Who cares what colour my hair is? But sometimes I wonder if starting to use magic was a mistake, or if it was inevitable.”

She waited and ate a little more while he thought about it. “Do you remember when you wanted to be a marine biologist?”

“Dolphins are cool, dad.”

“Yes, you’ve said so. At length,” he added meaningfully. “You could’ve decided to pursue science and work with dolphins. Hell, you still could. There’s no one path you have to take, kiddo. Don’t lock yourself into something. If you decide to change your mind and try something else, I’ll support you one hundred percent. And you’ll still have all that magic inside you, even if you start shaking rooms with your ideas about dolphins instead of with your need for a fresh diaper.”

“Dad, gross,” she whined. “But… thanks.”

“Just remember,” he added. “You want to try something new, so go for it. You’re never too old to change your mind.”

***

On Tuesdays the shop tended to see heavier foot-traffic than any other day of the week. Down the street, the Magic Lantern theatre only charged five dollars for shows that day and some of Blago’s elderly customers liked to take in an afternoon showing before the place got crowded. After, they would amble up Yonge Street.

Felicia perched herself on Blago’s shoulder and oversaw foot traffic in and out of the store with an air of superiority. She received more than a few curious glances, though thankfully no one tried to pet her. Blago wasn’t sure how Felicia might react to strangers touching her, and Blago herself wasn’t a big fan of strangers up in her space.

Elżbeta had stopped in that afternoon. She gave Blago a lazy wave and wandered between the shelves at the back of the store while Blago cashed out several other customers first.

That done, the shop emptied of anyone save the two of them. Elżbeta made her way back to the counter. “Blago, dear, do you have any more of those poultices for arthritis?” She had a translucent look about her that so many of the elderly had, but her eyes were sharp and bright, and Blago respected the strength she held in her thin frame.

“I can make some up if you’d like,” Blago offered. “It’ll take only a few minutes. How many?”

Elżbeta thought for a moment. “Thirteen?”

“Thirteen it is,” Blago nodded, and stepped out from around the counter to gather supplies from the back shelves.

The poultice ingredients weren’t complicated, but Blago had a trick: she imbued each one with a little magic to help heal. They were popular with many of her customers with old, achy joints aggravated by summer humidity and winter chills.

“I wanted to ask you something.” Blago balanced bunches of dried Boswellia and Cat’s Claw blossoms in the crook of her elbow, reaching for some Thunder God Vine roots.

“About Eve, I’m guessing?” Elżbeta replied. “You really should try to be more accommodating of her, dear. She has a lot on her plate.”

She dropped the supplies on the counter and took in Elżbeta’s serene expression. Somehow, she always managed to stay several steps ahead of Blago. Nothing seemed to ruffle her metaphorical feathers.

“She’s just so demanding,” Blago whined. The Thunder God Vine roots had to be peeled and diced up finely to be any good in the poultice. She started work on them and recounted for Elżbeta her experiences with Eve.

“It sounds to me like you both want the same thing,” Elżbeta said as Blago scraped the roots to one side of her cutting board. “You just have different approaches. Try thinking about things from Eve’s perspective next time. I think you both have a fair bit in common. You could learn a lot from watching her.”

“Sure, like how to be rude and demanding.”

Elżbeta glanced between Blago and the back of the store, where she kept her supplies and most of her magic books. “You could stand to be more demanding,” she said finally.

They had run circles around that topic more than once in the past. Blago changed the subject. “How’s your potluck club going?”

“Oh, it’s a little quiet right now,” Elżbeta replied through the shelves. “You’d think it would pick up in the summer, but I think some of the group might be too scared right now.” Elżbeta managed to make that sound both sad and judgmental.

“Why’s that?” Blago asked.

Elżbeta’s expression held a gentle rebuke. “These deaths are one of the main topics at the meetings lately, you know. We all hoped it would have been solved by now. And there are other things happening, too.”

“Like what?” Blago hadn’t heard anything but she still hadn’t attended any meetings and didn’t plan to attend one any time soon, either. She finished shredding the Boswellia and set to dicing Cats Claw blossoms.

“You remember Harold’s friend who passed away a few weeks ago?”

She did. “The kapre who had been sick for a long time? Yeah,” she agreed. Tito Jose had moved to Canada from the Philippines as a young man and kept up his family’s tradition of mischief, tricking children who played outside too late at night. He had adored the mundane gags Blago sold up front most of all, even as his age finally caught up to him. Harold had seemed understandably depressed in the weeks following the funeral.

“Harold went to the graveyard to put out fresh flowers. Someone had dug up his grave and desecrated the body.” Elżbeta set her mouth in a thin line. “It’s not the first time this has happened, either.”

“That’s awful!”

“Eve is looking into it, but with everything else going on…” Elżbeta trailed off and spread her hands wide. “I’ve invited him and the others to another potluck next week, but it might be a small group. They need a distraction.”

It was funny to think so many people passed through her shop every day, and Blago knew most of them by name, knew little bits and pieces about them, but still they could be so much of a mystery. She knew who needed something for their arthritis, or who warded their home regularly, but as for everything else, Blago drew a blank.

There could be all sorts of interesting stuff going on, and Blago would have no clue. “You know, I think I might be able to help with that,” she said slowly. She had an idea.

***

“I think I should start some kind of social thing at the store,” she said to Lau later that night.

“But you’re awful at Twitter,” Lau replied immediately. “Leave that to me.”

“Thanks,” Blago said drily. “But I mean like an event, you know? Something to get people together, something fun and exciting.”

Lau seemed interested in the idea, which Blago had been counting on. Events were awful things to manage, so obviously Lau delighted in them. “It would have to be something the mundanes could enjoy, too,” she said slowly. “Something you could advertise openly.”

“What do you think about a monthly or seasonal séance?”

Lau blanched.

“Not a real one!” Blago hurried to add. “Or at least, not mostly a real one. I could grab an Ouija board at the game shop down the street, have a real planchette we could swap in if the people who show up are all part of the community.”

“That is a surprisingly good idea.” Lau dropped her book to her lap. “Who were you talking to?”

“Elżbeta,” Blago admitted.

“I thought so.” Luckily for Blago, Lau immediately reached into her purse and pulled out her current notebook; the kind of high-end thing only found in overpriced stationery stores. “We’d need to make up some flyers, of course.” She started a list on a clean page in neat, gently curling letters. “Seating, some lighting for atmosphere, cushions…”

“Food? Drink?” Blago asked.

“Only if you want to get a license for it and start submitting to Dine Safe inspections,” Lau replied with a snort. “No, but you’ll want a special display of sale items. Mundane Ouija boards for the norms, maybe some protection pieces or real planchettes for everyone else.”

“I could ask the Native Centre on College if they want to sell some dream catchers or anything else,” Blago suggested, and Lau jotted it down. Native Child & Family Services had a few market sales a year, and a steady calendar of smudging and sunrise ceremonies helped keep the neighbourhood in balance.

“Excellent idea,” she agreed. “I’ll make a business-woman of you yet.”

The bell over the door rang then, a cascade of sound announcing another arrival. David always looked slightly uncomfortable during his rare visits to the store; part of the reason Blago thought he might not know about his magical heritage.

“Hey, come on back,” Blago called, and motioned him further into the store. “You know Lau, right?”

“Sure,” David reached out for a brisk handshake, “nice to see you again.”

“You too,” she replied, bemused. Most people were either put off by Lau’s aura or ogled her. David didn’t seem to notice either way, and instead scanned the shelves of the store with interest.

Felicia, who had been napping along the counter, stretched languorously, sat up straight, and stared at David intently as her tail lashed back and forth with interest.

“You all done your shift for today?” Blago asked. “It’s a scorcher out. I know dad always says there’s more violent crime when it gets hot out like this.” She ignored Lau’s glance and kept her expression totally benign.

David huffed out a sigh. “He’s not wrong.” He ran one hand through is hair, mussing it. “When its cold out, people stay home and watch Netflix. They really can’t handle this heat. You know we’re on our twenty-seventh suspicious death already this year?”

“No kidding! What happened?”

“Looks like some mob boss tried to have a clandestine meeting over at Riverdale Farms, of all places,” he said. “The coroner says heart attack, but I don’t know. What are the chances of that happening in the middle of a shady midnight meeting?”

“Pretty slim,” Lau muttered under her breath, but David caught it.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. So we’re still looking into it.” He blinked as if he only then realized he had maybe given too much away. “Uh, but none of that is public, so keep it to yourself, eh?”

Blago crossed her fingers and said, “Sure thing. But you must have dropped by for a reason. What’s up?”

David grinned ruefully. “You said your vet friend works across the street?”

“Oh yes, and Blago has an excellent view,” Lau confirmed. “Come on, let’s see if he’s out front today.” She led David over to the window display, and hell if Blago would let her friends ogle Dermid without her. 

Felicia wound her way across the store with pauses to rub up against any shelves and corners she could before she hopped up onto the front display and head-butted Blago. Obediently, Blago lifted her up onto her shoulder. Everyone wanted a look at Dermid, apparently.

Most of the shops along her stretch of Yonge closed around that time, though the froyo place down the street usually stayed open later to make the most of the humid summer nights and heavier foot traffic.

She could just barely see the shop, down on the corner, but it must have been shift change because she spotted Antonio, the werewolf cashier she had met recently, as he stepped out onto the sidewalk and took a deep breath, sniffing at the air. He’s going to have to get better at hiding who he is if he doesn’t want to get labelled a weirdo or a stoner, she thought.

“Oh, here’s his receptionist,” Lau pointed, but somehow Blago stayed fixated on Antonio. She watched him wait for a minute before Jahni came up the street, waving at him.

“I didn’t know those two were friends,” Blago murmured to herself. Not that she’d had any deep conversations with Jahni in their brief interaction at the morgue, but the two seemed like an odd pair. She watched as they performed an elaborate handshake before turning north, up towards Wellesley station — and Dermid’s vet practice.

“Dermid lives above the shop,” Lau said to David, “so he might not come out. Blago would know better, since she’s been creeping on him.”

“What?” Blago tuned back in and abruptly forgot about Antonio and Jahni. “I have not been creeping on him. I’m being neighbourly.”

“Uh huh. And as the local neighbourhood watch, do you think Dermid will come out tonight, or will he go right upstairs?”

“It’s recycling night,” she muttered, embarrassed, “He’ll come out.”

Right on cue, Dermid backed out his front door, an overflowing blue bin hefted in front of him. At the sight of him, Felicia made an odd chirping sound, new to Blago. Clearly, Dermid even overwhelmed cats. He had taken off his lab coat and all three of them — four, if she counted Felicia — admired the flex of his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

“Why have you been hiding this away from me?” David whined. “You think he’s single?”

“Definitely single,” Lau said. Which, Blago would’ve liked to know how she knew that. “And definitely straight.”

David frowned. “Too bad. But I’m still going to enjoy the view.”

They all stood there like that, in the front window of Blago’s shop, staring across the street until Dermid turned and spotted them. He waved awkwardly, looking startled.

“Why does he look so weirded out?”

“Because three people are obviously watching him take out the recycling?” Lau offered.

“Oh.” Oops.

That probably explained why Dermid sometimes ran cold around her. Blago made a mental note to try and be less weird. It probably wouldn’t work out, but she would be better for trying.

***

For days the air had hung hot and heavy, a wave of humidity coming up off Lake Ontario and weighing down the city, leaving a haze along the skyline. Blago woke up with relief the next day when she saw a masses of grey clouds hanging low and dark outside. The air fairly crackled, charged with anticipation as the whole city waited for the humidity to break into a rainstorm.

The shop was quiet, and Blago stared out the windows to Yonge Street most of the morning. For the first time in weeks people wore long sleeves and carried umbrellas tucked under their arms. Several peered up at the sky every few steps, leery of getting caught in a downpour.

It didn’t take long for the clouds to finally break without a gradual build-up of rain; instead, a sudden deluge fell in thick curtains and rushed along the windows and sidewalks.

Blago breathed out slowly. She’d been tense, waiting for the rain, and let her shoulders drop as the steady drum of it built. Even Felicia roused from her extended nap, hopping off the counter and padding silently across the store to one of the window displays for a better view.

“Good thing I made lunch today, eh?” Blago asked Felicia. “Wouldn't want to be out there in it.”

Felicia ignored her in favour of the view outside. Not that Blago had expected a response. The rain soon ran down the window in sheets, blurring the view into loose shapes and muted colours against grey. The store sat empty and quiet. Blago debated closing up shop for the day to read upstairs instead of manning the counter. The chances of her receiving any customers interested in more than a respite from the rain looked slim.

A few minutes later, Dermid pushed open the door with a little too much force and he and Su Jin ducked inside. The door swung closed behind them against the wind and wet. Drenched, both of them dripped water from their hair and clothes and quickly formed a shared puddle on the floor.

“Holy crow.” Blago darted around the counter to lock the door behind them. “You two are soaked.”

From her spot in the front window, Felicia let out a curious sound.

“Thanks,” Dermid said dryly. “We hadn’t noticed.” He pushed his hair back off his forehead, but it didn’t stop water from slipping down his face, his neck, his— Blago needed to stop staring. Su Jin’s expression was distinctly unimpressed, though she turned away from a brisk appraisal of Blago to inspect Felicia. Likely not keen on getting wet, she jumped off the table with a dull thud and disappeared into the back of the store.

“Come on upstairs, you can borrow some towels and clothes until it calms down,” Blago offered and flicked off the lights.

Her bathroom might have been small, but Blago’s apartment had a surprising amount of storage and thanks to Lau she owned many, many extra towels. She pulled a stack of them out of the closet and set them on the table. The top one carried a thick coat of cat hair thanks to Felicia napping on the pile, but once removed Blago still had five for Dermid and Su Jin to share.

“Bathroom’s in there,” she gestured, “if you want it. Why don’t you towel off and I’ll see if I have anything that will fit you both?”

“I can change once it lets up a little and we can get across the street,” Dermid offered. He turned in a slow circle, examined her space with his hands in his pockets.

“I …don’t have a change of clothes at the office,” Su Jin admitted reluctantly. “If I could borrow something, I would appreciate it.” Her aura flickered even more brightly as thunder and lightning crashed dully outside, but Blago still couldn’t make it out. She must have had excellent control to lock it down so tightly.

She wasn’t sure why Su Jin didn’t like her, but that was no reason not to be extra nice. Blago would kill her with kindness, if that’s what it took. “No problem,” she replied cheerfully. “Let me see what I’ve got in here.”

She hadn’t seen Su Jin that many times, but her style seemed more in line with Lau’s taste than Blago’s. Blago’s closet consisted of easy, comfortable pieces she could wear while lifting boxes or doing inventory. She didn’t own any sundresses, which she had seen Su Jin wear several times, and Su Jin looked considerably thinner than Blago, though they stood at roughly the same height. She kept that in mind as she rummaged through the hangers in her closet.

Luckily, she found an older dress of Lau’s, forgotten months ago. Blago had washed and dried it and hung it up and then forgotten to tell her about it, so it would probably be okay to lend to Su Jin.

“How’s this?” she asked and held it up for inspection. “I think this will fit. And… a sweater?” Su Jin shivered.

Su Jin accepted both the dress and the sweater. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I’ll just go change,” and headed into the bathroom.

Which left Blago alone with Dermid, still dripping all over her floor as he moved over to inspect her magical supplies shelf. Just the sight of him in her space set her stomach twisting into knots. “I know you said you don’t need anything, but I bet I can find some sweat pants or something for you so you don’t have to wait like that.” Her gesture encompassed both him and the small lake that had formed at his feet.

“And so I stop dripping on your floors?” he asked without looking away from the few personal books on the shelf.

“Yes, please,” she agreed. Having him so close to the supplies made her extra nervous. He had only just realized she had magic. He hadn’t exactly seen her perform magic.

She forced herself to turn her back on him and rummage through the clothes she almost never wore. Blago had a small stash of yoga pants from the time Lau had tried to get her to join a class, and they’d always been too long on Blago. Getting them hemmed had seemed like a hassle at the time. “These will be um, kind of tight, but the length should do? And this is the biggest shirt I have.”

Her dad had picked it up for her on vacation once — an XXL men’s Wonder Woman shirt — and she’d never had the heart to ask him why he’d grabbed that particular size. Considering she stood just below average height for a woman, it fit her like a tent.

Dermid stared at the shirt and pants for a moment, though Blago got the impression he somehow looked through them rather than at them. She shifted on her feet, self-conscious. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, and stood to collect them from her.

Su Jin exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped up around her hair and a bundle of wet clothes in her arms. “Could I borrow a plastic bag to take these home?”

“I could run them through the wash for you,” Blago offered as Dermid slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. “Yours too, Dermid!” She turned back to Su Jin. “It’s not like you don’t know where to find me, eh?”

“Um, sure. Sounds good,” Su Jin agreed awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Blago popped open the washing machine and loaded it up with detergent and Su Jin’s clothes and the towels she had used to dry off with. Outside the rain didn’t show any signs of letting up any time soon, and in the distance another crack of thunder followed a low rumble. Su Jin’s aura crackled.

“Do you two have to get back for more appointments?” Blago asked in the quiet after.

“Not for a little while,” Su Jin admitted and turned to inspect the bookshelves, much as Dermid had. “It’s quiet today. No one’s booked in until two, so we thought we’d go out for lunch.”

Blago had never actually had an employee, though she and Lau went out for lunch occasionally, or ordered in more often when it was quiet. “Sounds nice,” she said. “You forgot your umbrellas?”

Looking sheepish, Su Jin admitted, “We didn’t bring any today. I didn’t think it was going to rain.”

“And I always forget to check the weather,” Dermid chimed in as he came out of the bathroom.

Good news: he no longer looked distractingly disheveled. Terrible news: he instead looked hilariously distracting. The yoga pants were tight, especially around the thighs, but the Wonder Woman shirt swam even on Dermid, and thankfully hung long.

“Um,” Blago tried not to start laughing immediately. “Throw your clothes in the wash there. I’ll get them back to you later.”

“Thanks,” Dermid said, and did just that, hitting the wash button. Blago looked away on purpose, but she could see him bend over out of the corner of her eye and when he did, Su Jin broke down in laughter.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stuttered, “but--“ She couldn’t even finish the sentence, and it must have been contagious, because one more look at Dermid had Blago to bursting out laughing, too.

“See if I treat you to lunch again,” he muttered, and hunched his shoulders up near his now red ears. He dropped into a seat at Blago’s small kitchen table and crossed his arms.

No longer being able to see the yoga pants helped, and gradually Su Jin and Blago caught their breath as the rain slowed down to a steady patter outside. 

“At least you’re nice and dry?” Blago offered. “It could be worse.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it,” Dermid whined.

Su Jin laughed again.

***

When the rain finally let up, Blago watched them hurry up to the light, cross, and dash back down to the vet, where a client waited, clearly unimpressed with their tardiness. And their dress. Oops.


	8. The High Park Greenhouses

More criminals had infiltrated their neighbourhood. They had seen the Tanuki meet with two of them; stupidly, brazenly discussing their business in public, where anybody could hear every word.

They’re an infestation _. The hunger fairly salivated over the four of them._ They’re poisoning people. They’re the reason we had to take out that werewolf. Think of the damage they cause _._

It wanted to feed on them. And it was right. They needed to do something about the Tanuki. After all, it was the Tanuki who had caught wind of them, who were getting smart were they had no business, no right to interfere. The other two? They didn’t know the hunger.

But the hunger knew them.

***

When the rain finally calmed down, Blago wandered south to the big Canadian Tire at Dundas. With the Pride Parade and the Canada Day long weekend both on the horizon, she found plenty of sales on barbeque equipment, patio furniture, and softer seating options.

None of it was particularly fancy, but Blago figured it didn’t need to be. Waterproof floor cushions seemed to be one of the least expensive options available, and she could use them for the Ouija board party and reuse them again if Lau thought the event successful enough to repeat.

She bought eight and hauled them back to the shop, tucking them into the supply closet. That accomplished, she reopened the shop for the after-work crowd. A fair number of people stopped in once the weather cleared, including Lau, and by closing time Blago wanted to crawl out of her skin or into bed or both.

The temperature dropped in the evening, enough that Blago opened the upstairs windows to let some fresh air circulate down from her apartment and into the shop. The breeze brought with it all the noise of Yonge Street on a summer’s night, a soothing and familiar din. She dragged her fingers along one of the shelves in the back of the shop and picked up a few odds and ends.

“What are you looking for, anyway?” Lau asked, sounding bored.

It had been a long day, but somehow Blago’s mind ramped up, just getting ready. “If three people are already dead, and it’s been a few days, I’m betting whoever this is might try again soon.”

“You’ve been watching too many crime dramas,” Lau said, but she looked interested.

“Also my dad’s a cop! Anyways,” she continued, “I was thinking, what if we could track them down? Maybe kind of,” she gestured vaguely, grabbing a jar off the shelf, “combine strengths.”

“We?” Lau asked, glancing at the door where the sign was flipped to _closed_. “You know I’m more of a delegator.”

Blago set everything on a clear patch of floor. “Lau,” she said softly. “I need you. People are dying.”

“Are you even going to be able to concentrate with all that racket out there?” Outside, she could hear car horns and bicycle bells; construction; chatter from people heading to or from a bar or Buddies in Bad Times for a cabaret.

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Blago let the conversation derail temporarily. Sometimes letting Lau have some mental space before she made a decision worked best. “The hard part is when we do this during the day, because I keep thinking someone could come into the shop.”

Lau rolled her eyes. “You could hire a part-timer, to cover the store. It’s not like it’s hard.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good idea!” Somehow Blago had never considered it before; now that Lau said it, it sounded so obvious.

“All my ideas are good ideas,” Lau replied flatly. “Just make sure you hire someone in the know.”

With her new purpose in mind, Blago smoothed a tourist map of Toronto out on the floor and anchored it with four candles, not on the corners, but along the sides: white to the north, yellow to the east, red to the south and black to the west.

The land Toronto sat on belonged to no one first, and then to the indigenous peoples, and even though the streets had been named all in English and French and Chinese and Greek, the city itself knew who had been there first. It never hurt to be respectful, and a medicine wheel would tie back to that. She lit the candles and settled, cross-legged, in front of the map.

“Can you pass me the ashes?” Blago asked and Lau passed her a small mason jar filled with black ash. It wasn’t easy to get sycamore wood downtown. She couldn’t just wander into Home Hardware and hope they would have something from a tree which had been harvested properly. The dryads who lived in the Beaches neighbourhood would only part with so much of it. But Blago had traded some wards and protection charms for a sampling of different woods last year, and carefully burned half of them to ash.

Cultures all over the world and throughout history had known about sycamore wood’s unusual properties. It stood as a symbol of long-life in more than one tradition, and if there Blago knew anything it was that there was _always_ a flip side. The sycamore could also be a gateway to death or to the afterlife, and she hoped it would be on her side this time.

She poured a small amount out onto the map right around her shop, then sealed up the jar carefully and set it aside.

Lau still stood there, frowning. “Come on,” Blago entreated, and patted the floor. “I can’t do this without you.” Lau swallowed visibly and glanced around the shop.

“I can’t sit on your floors,” she hedged. “People walk all over them with their filthy shoes all day.”

“So grab the cushion off my chair,” Blago shrugged with a loose gesture to the cash register. The cushion had lost some of its fluff over the years, but she could always refill it later, or replace it with one of the new floor cushions. She just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

By the stomping, Lau must have been anxious, but she grabbed the cushion and took a minute to adjust it across from Blago on the other side of the map, fussy.

“Lau,” Blago said softly. “I’m going to be right here with you. It’ll be okay.”

Finally, Lau closed her eyes and slumped as though her strings had been cut. She sighed, toed out of her kitten heels, and folded down onto the cushion gracefully, like a dancer. “If it works, I suppose you’ll get to give Eve some good news.”

“Who cares about Eve? Give me your hands?” Blago held her own out across the middle of the map, out of range of the candles. “We need to be like a battery.”

“And I’m the negative to your positive,” Lau muttered, but she did reach out and clasp Blago’s hands loosely. Even though the door remained firmly closed, a faint breeze stirred across the back of her neck. A gentle pressure started on each of her shoulders, almost as if someone had rested their hands there. She shook it off.

“You’re the real power here,” Blago disagreed. Despite how people felt about it, death was neither positive nor negative. It was both and neither, but never one or the other. Lau knew that, in theory at least. That didn’t mean she believed it.

“Focus on what or whoever did that to the body in the morgue,” Lau grumbled.

Blago would have argued, but Lau had already closed her eyes. She had more practice with meditation, and adulting and, well, _everything_ than Blago. Blago didn’t want to be the reason the spell didn’t work.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on two opposing ideas simultaneously; the feeling of that body in the morgue, completely devoid of magic and the sick sensation of something overflowing with dark, slick, poisonous magic. Lau ran cold and her hands made Blago’s own seem too warm, but when an itch spread across her palms she knew it worked correctly.

“Stop thinking about your hands,” Lau said, cutting through her distraction. “Focus.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re not psychic when you say stuff like that,” Blago muttered, but she pulled her focus back to those two feelings again, cycled through them back and forth, let one lead her automatically to the other and back again and again until her heart sped up. Her palms began to sweat. The air grew heavy, pressing down on the top of her shoulders and her kneecaps; the itch in her palms made her desperate to break hands with Lau and scratch.

She inhaled sharply, but it didn’t do anything to ease the tension that crept under her skin, through her veins. A ghost of a smell, like a familiar perfume she couldn’t quite pin down, lingered in the air and the pressure at her shoulders increased. All of it overlapped, in Blago’s mind, with the electric anticipation of Lau doing one of her readings, but as if they somehow occupied the same molecular space; like she could jitter right out of herself if it would help.

And then, all at once, it broke. Blago and Lau both breathed out deeply. Blago yanked her hands back and furiously rubbed her palms over her knees in an attempt to chase away an itch that had already passed.

Lau remained much more composed. “It worked,” she said, and when Blago made herself stop rubbing at her hands she focused on the map. The sycamore ash crept across the paper, headed steadily west until it converged near the south end of High Park.

“That seems like a bad sign,” Blago started to say, but before she could finish her sentence, the ash exploded upward in a burst of grey and black.

Blago coughed desperately in an attempt to clear her throat. The candles sputtered out, and she and Lau were left to wheeze over an ashy tourist map.

“I don’t think that’s supposed to happen,” she said when she could finally breathe normally again.

Lau, who always looked pressed and unruffled, froze. “We need to go,” she said urgently. “Now.”

“Now-now?” Blago asked, but she had already scrambled to her feet and moved to grab her messenger bag from behind the counter.

“Now,” Lau repeated. Her skin looked a shade paler than normal, her eyes too wide. Even if Blago didn’t have death-sensing seer powers, she shook with their shared connection, anxious, and just _knew_ something bad was about to happen.

***

They dashed out the door a minute later, and on the road in Lau’s borrowed car three minutes after that. Lau zipped down Yonge and swung onto the ramp up to the Gardiner Expressway faster than Blago would’ve liked. That late at night, the road stayed blessedly empty, and its state of disrepair became more obvious than it would at the normal Gardiner speed of a crawl. Blago gripped the _oh-shit_ handle as they hit another pothole.

Lau clung tight to the steering wheel, her fingers white-knuckled and stiff. For the first time ever, Blago didn’t want to fiddle with the stereo— not that she could have while holding on for dear life.

They took the turn for Centre Avenue sharp, and a little wild, and Blago’s stomach churned. From her messenger bag, someone else must have felt the same and let out a yowl of protest.

She managed to let go of the door handle and tugged the straps loose of their buckles, pulling up the flap. Inside, Felicia blinked her bright gold eyes up at Blago and mewed hello.

“You brought your cat?” Lau asked disbelievingly.

“It’s not my fault!” Blago protested. “She must have climbed into my bag when I wasn’t looking!”

The distraction helped, though. Lau loosened her grip slightly on the steering wheel. “You’re leaving her in the car.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course!” The last thing Blago wanted to do was bring an adorable kitten along to track down a magical serial killer. Not on purpose, anyway.

Lau blew past the Spring Road entrance to the park, though she did finally slow down to something nearer to the speed limit. Million-dollar single family homes lines the right side of the street, perched several feet above the sidewalk with steep, narrow lawns. The view of High Park across the street seemed nice and all, but Blago wouldn’t have wanted to live there. The road saw heavy traffic getting on or off the highway eight hours a day, and the front steps and driveways looked like they’d be an icy pain to shovel in winter.

She could just make out the arched park gates at Centre Road when the hair stood up on the back of Blago’s neck. She shivered, swallowed convulsively, and stroked her thumb back and forth across the soft fur of Felicia’s forehead. “You feel that?” she asked Lau.

Stupid question. Lau had probably sensed it long before Blago. “Yes,” she answered tightly.

The street was empty and the houses dark. Lau made an illegal left on the red and pulled into the park proper.

The road curved and swooped sharply into the heart of High Park, quiet at that hour. Usually the park roads were crowded with pedestrians and cyclists, but that night it lay eerily still and dark.

The trees thinned out as the road curved inward and Lau slowed the car to a near crawl. Halfway down a side road, Blago could make out a black Civic parked in the shadows.

“Hey, back up a little.”

Lau looked doubtfully at her but reversed up the slope until her car could be hidden from the lane by the trees and shrubs that lined the main road. She killed the engine but didn’t remove her hands from the wheel.

“You think it’s here?” she whispered. As the engine cooled the quiet settled, oppressively heavy between the trees.

“I think it’s weird for someone else to be parked by the city-owned greenhouses at,” she checked the time on her phone, “eleven thirty on a Saturday night. You can’t tell if this is the spot?”

Lau shuddered. “No, there’s— too much of it,” she said after a pause. “It’s everywhere.”

“Okay.” Blago didn’t reach out to Lau. She didn’t like it, and it wouldn’t have helped. But Blago did pull Felicia out of her bag and set her on the back seat. “You stay here, nice and safe. Okay, Felicia? And hopefully we will not die.”

Felicia was not impressed. Neither was Lau. “Don’t say that,” she hissed. She stepped gracefully out of her side of the car and closed the door quietly. Blago scrambled to keep up.

Greenhouse Road provided absolutely nothing in the way of protection and left Blago and Lau uncomfortably exposed. There was no cover, nowhere to hide, and their pace on foot was so much slower than in the car. But if something was going down, Blago wanted to have the element of surprise on her side.

Finally, they came to a fork where the road split into a loop which stretched along the front of the green houses.

Blago knew about the greenhouses but reading a BlogTO article hadn’t prepared her for how big they were. Or how many.

Each greenhouse consisted of a long, arched structure, misty with humidity inside that left the glass opaque. They must have been at least as long as a hockey rink, and as far as Blago could tell, all or nearly all of them were connected, forming two very large, low structures. Lining the outside wall Blago counted six industrial shelves waiting to be filled, as well as hand carts and hoses. The grass beside the nearest greenhouse must have served a purely functional purpose instead of aesthetic; pocked with dead patches where the rest of the park showcased meticulous and regular maintenance.

Even for the late hour, the building seemed unnaturally still and quiet. The weather had been hot and humid for days, and the air weighed on Blago, waiting to break as though it hadn’t rained just that morning.

“Come on,” Lau whispered. Someone had already unlocked the main door, and it slid open easily. Blago closed it behind them and took a moment to look around.

Rows upon long rows of plants in waist-high beds filled the room and hanging baskets overwhelmed the space above— at least what hadn’t already been occupied by a complex misting system. That explained the humidity, somehow worse inside than outside. A feat, for a Toronto summer.

There didn’t appear to be anyone in the first greenhouse, so Blago weaved around the plant beds to the next door on the far side of the room and cautiously slid it open. The temperature was slightly cooler and the plants a darker green, but otherwise it appeared to be just another mundane greenhouse.

“Maybe I was wrong?” Blago whispered doubtfully but Lau shook her head.

“The city wouldn’t leave this unlocked. We’re in the right place, just not the right greenhouse.”

Blago’s skin still pulled too tight and the hair on her arms still stood on end. She couldn’t argue with that.

They worked their way through the next several rooms before they hit the final greenhouse. Blago stopped dead in her tracks. She had counted five greenhouses outside. Or, at least she thought she had.

“Do you see that?” she asked quietly. Lau shook her head.

On the far wall Blago spotted still another door, this one covered in a glamour. It wasn’t the best glamour she’d ever seen — kind of quick and dirty. A keen-eyed mundane might be able to figure out something was off if they thought about it hard enough. It looked like greenhouse wall around it, sure, but it was an exact copy of the section next to it. Someone had achieved the magical equivalent of a bad Photoshop job.

If it had been her, Blago would’ve put what she liked to think of as a somebody else’s problem layer on top, because she always had loved the _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ and also because it was a great idea; something mundanes would steer clear of and which would encourage them not to pay too much attention.

Instead, the extra door in front of her had only a thin veneer of the illusion of a wall over top, and when she tugged on the handle it shifted aside like a curtain. Lau raised her eyebrows.

They slipped inside and closed the door behind them. Blago almost couldn’t believe what she saw inside — the mother lode. Each row overflowed with magical plants, everything Blago could ever want and a lot of things for which she had trouble finding suppliers.

“Oh my god.” She reached out to rub one smooth petal between two fingers. “Can you believe this?” The first row held more common plants which had magical uses — yarrow and quickset, periwinkles and field clover — but in the next row she had already spotted witches’ blooms and potted pixies and, “Is that wolfsbane again?”

A whole bed of the bright purple, poisonous plants grew in the second row, and Blago swerved around the end and up the next aisle to get a closer look.

“That grew in Allen Gardens, too.” Lau kept her hands firmly at her sides, probably a good idea considering the sheer volume of poisonous plants on display. “The same grower, maybe?”

“The exact same,” someone else replied in a deep voice.

Blago practically jumped out of her skin, heart in her throat as she twisted around to see Jahni standing just inside the door.

“You!” she blurted out, pointing at him. Her mind raced. Sure, he’d seemed kind of stand-offish and rude at the coroner’s office, but could he actually be the killer, or at least in league with them?

“Me,” he replied with a frown. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re not allowed in here.”

“Oops,” Lau said without a hint of sincerity. “Our mistake. The door was unlocked.”

Jahni didn’t buy that for a second. “You need to get out of here.”

“We’re on official business,” Blago countered, inching her hand toward her bag. “And there are a lot of sketchy plants in here. Did you know you’ve basically got a bunch of magical recreational drugs growing on city property? Not to mention all the poisons. You could kill someone with a lot of these. What do you know about Adam Carver?”

“Who?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

“The werewolf stealing wolfsbane from your little plot inside the Gardens! Don’t pretend you don’t know about it. He’s dead now. That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Jahni grabbed a shovel from its spot leaning up against the wall. “But maybe you didn’t hear me when I said you needed to get out of here.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Lau looked a lot braver than Blago felt. Jahni was a big guy, and the shovel looked like it could do some serious damage.

Just then the door slid open again, and Blago hadn’t gotten a great look the last time but she would recognize those suits anywhere.

“This is a private meeting,” one of the Tanuki growled. He had height like Johnny, but a skinny build with a gaunt look to his face and a black eye peeking out from under his sunglasses.

The other one measured a head shorter but no less lean. “You were at the farm!” he shrieked, jabbing a finger at Blago. “And I’ve seen you with that murderer!”

“You must be the brains of the operation,” Lau said drily. “Tell us what’s going on here.”

“Or what?” the little one sneered. “You’ll call your friend and kill us, too?” They seemed strangely suspicious of Eve, who as far as Blago could tell hadn’t killed anyone.

Lau arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “I think you know what,” she said and tapped her lips thoughtfully.

They both blanched. The Tanuki definitely remembered her from the other night at Riverdale Farm. 

“You know, I kind of like you being the muscle in this crime-fighting duo,” Blago said, her confidence returned.

“I’m also the brains,” Lau replied, not taking he eyes off the Tanuki.

Blago laughed. Lau wasn’t wrong. Blago wouldn’t know what to do without her. “You heard the lady,” she said and leaned against one of the long tables. “What are you Tanuki up to? What was your boss in to?”

The taller of the two slumped a little, but kept his gaze fixed warily on Lau. “We don’t have to talk to you. We’ve seen that one,” he gestured at Blago, “with the thing that took out our Boss. And now interfering in our business!”

“Your business of-- drug running and selling poison?” Blago rolled eyes. “I haven’t done anything yet, but I bet Chimera would like to know about this.” She turned to Lau. “What do you think, should we give them a call?”

The smaller Tanuki met her question with a growl, less easily intimidated by Lau’s aura and ability to scream in the voice of the dead, but the taller of the two was already on a roll. “You’ll stay out of our business if you know what’s good for you.”

“What if she calls it?” the smaller one whined. “Look what happened to the boss. For all we know, Chimera sent them to take him out. We almost had one of them the next night, before you interrupted.” By the look on his face, he wasn’t convinced she and Lau hadn’t been involved in the death of their boss, and the last thing Blago wanted was trouble with the Tanuki. She had seen them do some serious property damage, and they were hell on insurance rates.

“Chimera asked me to investigate his death, not cause it,” she said. She hoped they understood her tone heavily implied a silent _you moron_. “Your boss is not the only person dead. Which is why Chimera showed up there that night. They’re looking into it, too.”

At least, so Eve had said. Something about the way she went about the whole process didn’t sit right with Blago.

They stayed silent for a moment before the smaller one spat, “Bullshit. Which Chimera? Because the only ones we know are liars.”

“She’s not lying,” Jahni cut in. Blago had mostly forgotten him. “They came by the coroner’s office for information.”

“You on their side now?” he asked, suspicious.

“I’m not on anyone’s side.” Jahni scowled and Blago honestly believed him in that moment.

“You bring us your friend and we’ll take care of it,” he said. “That’s the only way you can prove you’re not working with it.”

“Uhh,” Blago stammered. She had no idea who they meant. “I’ll think about it. Now, what’s with—” she gestured broadly at the greenhouse, “—all of this?”

“That’s a mostly legal side-business!” the tall one piped up brightly.

“Shut up, Makoto,” the shorter one hissed.

But Makoto looked incredibly proud, his wide grin irrepressible and friendly. He came off a lot less threatening when he smiled.

Jahni seemed exasperated, and he might have had something to say about the whole shit show. Through the glass and the plants, a scream, high and sharp, interrupted before he got the chance, only to cut off unnaturally. 

She didn’t wait for anyone else; Blago squeezed between the two Tanuki, yanked the door open and scrambled into the next room even as Lau stayed frozen behind her. She’d let herself get distracted from the reason they came there in the first place. The shorter of the two Tanuki shouted, “Scatter!” Blago’s heart hit her throat as she threw open the door to the middle greenhouse.

Despite the dark she recognized Antonio’s face, locked in a rictus of pain as a dark shadow curled over and around him. The plants around them had withered and curled black at the edges, though she knew they had been lush and green not minutes before.

Felicia yowled and leapt out from the plant beds, launching herself at the thing. Blago barely managed to catch her and pull her tight to her chest instead, heart racing. Antonio sank to the floor, the ghost of a wolf overlaid on his face, as if being pulled inexorably into the shadow, even as Antonio gasped for air, struggling weakly.

“Hey, asshole!” Blago shouted and grabbed the nearest thing she could find with her free hand, a small spade someone must have dropped on the floor. “Pick on someone your own size!” Felicia struggled in her grip as the shadow turned. It didn’t have a face, but still she could sense some sort of recognition. Her heart raced. It was as if it knew her already. “Shit,” she muttered, immediately regretting her decision, and threw the spade at it as hard as she could.

It fell short by an entire aisle, useless.

“Aren’t you a witch?” Jahni hissed from behind her. “Do some magic or something!”

And oh. Yeah. Blago pushed Felicia into his big hands. “Keep her safe,” she said distractedly, digging a hand into her bag to fish out a single sachet folded up in beeswax. Not breaking what she thought might be eye contact with the thing, Blago moved carefully around the plant beds. The pull on Antonio’s wolf seemed to slow as the shadow focused on her. “Yeah, that’s right.” She pushed her shoulders back and tried to look intimidating. “I’m much more interesting than some dumb werewolf.”

Antonio wheezed and clawed at the rough floor of the greenhouse as if to crawl away, grey and wan, the after-image of his wolf following a second slower. That counted as progress of a sort.

As Blago passed Antonio, the shadow let loose a grating shriek. Blago winced but pushed forward, slipped her fingertips into the folds of wax, loosened the tight creases of with a quiet pop. The closer she got the more her skin crawled with revulsion and her stomach tied itself into knots. Even when she stood two, three meters from it, exposed and alone at the end of the aisle, she still couldn’t make out a face from the inky blackness. Something about it pulled her in, made her take another step forward almost unconsciously, an undeniable pull.

Lau screamed.

Blago had only a moment to react. She flicked open the sachet, closed her eyes and threw it as hard as she could at the shadow, releasing a flash of pure, blinding sunlight.

Even with her face turned and a hand over her eyes, the light effectively blinded her. Blago gritted her teeth against the groan that wanted to escape even as several other people in the room cried out. 

The shadow shrieked again, and when the light died down enough to look, Blago covered her eyes with one hand and squinted past the edge. It writhed and boiled furiously. For a split second the edges of it bled grey revealing what looked like a human figure at the heart of it before it pooled onto the floor and flooded to the walls and the door. Like living oil, it coalesced before disappearing into the cracks and joints of the greenhouse.

Silence hung heavy in the humid air of the greenhouse. Blago’s heart raced, suddenly, startlingly loud in her ears. She bent down to pick up the discarded beeswax and found her hand trembled.

Behind her, Antonio wheezed on the floor and Blago snapped back to reality.

“Someone help me grab him,” she called out, surprised that she sounded calm. As she knelt down next to him the plants in the surrounding beds flushed green again and began to unfurl. Antonio still had a grey cast to his face. He looked weathered; weak. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked quietly.

With visible effort he managed to roll over onto his back and raised one hand to give her a wobbly thumbs-up. “Thanks,” he rasped, “thank you.”

“Any time.” Blago laughed, a little hysterical.

Felicia finally kicked free from Jahni’s grip and jumped down to sniff delicately at Antonio’s face. Her whiskers twitched as she examined him thoroughly.

“I don’t know how you got out of the car,” Blago said as she scooped her back up and onto her shoulder, “but we are going to have words later.”

Felicia mewed gently and head-butted her cheek, unruffled. Funny, Blago had always thought cats were supposed to be skittish.

Lau still looked shell-shocked, her hands gripping tight to the table nearest the wall. “Lau,” Blago called out. She tried to sound brave, “It’s okay, it’s gone. We’re safe now.”

The door the shadow bled through rattled and jerked open and all three of them jumped as Dermid rushed into the room, flushed, dirt smudged on his arms and cheeks, chest heaving, and armed with a rake. “Are you okay? What happened?” He breathed hard, as though he had just fought off a shadow monster.

Blago broke; laughed hysterically in relief. Tears streamed down her face as she thumped backward onto the floor and covered her eyes with one hand.

“Blago, stop freaking out.” Lau sounded stronger, finally, and Blago dropped her hand, hiccoughing out the last gasps of hysteria. Lau turned to Dermid. “Put the rake down, you look ridiculous. It’s a charming gesture, but pointless. You two,” she gestured between him and Jahni, “can carry this one out to the car. He needs medical attention.”

Dermid awkwardly propped the rake against the wall and worked his way around to Blago and Antonio. Blago took several shuddering breaths as she found her equilibrium again, helped along by Felicia pressed close to her side, purring loudly as Dermid crouched down beside them.

“You’re okay though?” he asked. He reached out, tugged one of her hands between his own, and stroked his thumb over the skin of her wrist, looking at her and Felicia intently.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.”

He sighed in obvious relief, and Blago’s stomach flipped over again. He still held the trophy for the most attractive person she’d ever met, but as always happened, as soon as someone showed any real interest in her Blago felt queasy and uncomfortable. _Why am I like this?_ She pulled free of his hands, sat up properly and hugged Felicia close to her chest, glad when the cat clung to her shirt and pressed her little face to the crook of Blago’s neck.

Between the two of them, Jahni and Dermid managed to get Antonio upright and outside, where Dermid had parked what must have been the world’s smallest grey pickup truck right behind the black Civic Blago belatedly realized probably belonged to either Jahni or Antonio. Probably Jahni. No way working at a froyo shop paid enough for rent and a car, not in downtown Toronto.

Dermid paused instead of trying to get Antonio in the front seat. “Maybe he should come back to my place,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m guessing this is another thing where you don’t want to have to explain anything at a hospital? He doesn’t look good.” He directed the question to Blago, and she nodded.

“Yeah, good call. Lau and I will stop by my shop first, see if we have anything that might help and meet you there.”

“You lead, I’ll follow,” Jahni agreed.

“I still want answers about Adam Carver and the Tanuki,” Blago replied. “We’re going to talk, all of us.”

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered.

To be fair, he didn’t have much of a choice.


	9. The Werewolf Upstairs

Blago clambered up the stairs to her apartment and filled Felicia’s dish with dry food, rummaging through her cupboards until she found a large tin of tea. Next, she dug through the pile of clean laundry she hadn’t yet done anything with. Su Jin and Dermid’s clothes were clean, dry, and folded to the best of her ability, so she shoved everything in her bag and stumbled back downstairs, where Lau stood staring at the candles and map they’d left on the floor only an hour and a half ago. Time stretched out.

“Hey,” she said quietly, “we got there in time, and you probably saved Antonio’s life tonight.”

“You saved his life,” Lau corrected shakily, but then, more steadily added, “but I helped.”

Blago sighed and held open the door for Lau. At least there hadn’t been any dead animals out front in a while. “Team effort. Come on, no reason to fall down on the job now.” Blago tugged lightly on Lau’s elbow and she followed her easily enough across the street, quieter at this hour, and into Dermid’s practice, locking the door behind them. The lights on the ground floor might have been switched off, but a set of stairs behind the front desk led to a second floor, and Blago and Lau climbed up, following the sound of voices.

Most older Toronto homes shared the same layout — a long narrow hallway running along the stairs, two doors at one end of the hall, another two at the other; a bathroom probably, and a kitchen/laundry room based on the way the hardwood floors give way to tile.

Blago pushed open the door of the nearest room — a sort of living room/office, from the looks of it. Antonio, hooked up to an IV, had collapsed on the couch as Dermid and Jahni stood awkwardly nearby.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Dermid said, frowning. He had his hands tucked into his back pockets. He looked nervously at Antonio. “There’s not a mark on you. And I’m a vet, not a physician.”

“Damnit Jim, I’m a veterinarian, not a werewolf specialist,” Blago growled in her best imitation of Dr. McCoy. No one looked impressed. Heathens. She had sort of hoped that as she expanded her friend group she might find people more receptive to pop references than Lau, but so far no luck.

“I’ve got a few things that might help,” Jahni said, “but I don’t know how to use them.” He opened his own messenger bag and pulled out several Ziploc bags of dried herbs, and Blago raised her eyebrows.

“So you’re actually growing some cool and useful stuff in the greenhouse,” she said and made grabby-hands until he handed the bags over. “I can make a poultice of these, I think,” she said. She examined each bag individually before looking up at Dermid. “Do you have some cheesecloth? And a kettle? I brought tea.”

“I think so.” Dermid led her out into the hall. “Come on.”

The small kitchen was clean and organized, much more so than Blago’s own, even with a washer and dryer stacked in one corner. Dermid rolled his shirtsleeves up, incredibly distracting, and moved to fill a kettle with water before he set it to boil on the stove. Blago made herself focus on the bags Jahni had handed over while Dermid dug into the cabinets for cheesecloth.

“What else do you need?” he asked.

She set the herbs out on his narrow kitchen table — just big enough for two people to eat side by side — and ran her fingers over them. “A cutting board, and a good knife? And a hammer or a mortar and pestle if you have one. And a mug for the tea.”

Dermid apparently kept a well-stocked kitchen, and soon she had everything set out to work. She cut several squares of cheesecloth so they could be layered together and set them aside.

Some of the herbs could be trimmed and put into piles, but for some of them she only needed the roots and needed to grind them into a fine dust with the mortar and pestle.

The work was mostly mindless and repetitive, and the rocking motion of the knife helped calm her down after the evening’s excitement. When the kettle began to whistle, Blago set aside the herbs she had been working with and dug the tin of tea out of her bag for Dermid.

“This is ordinary earl grey tea,” he said flatly after he had examined the label and given the contents a sniff.

“It's got a lot of bergamot oil in it,” she shrugged. “Trust me, it will help.” She’d checked out every tea seller in St. Lawrence Market to find the right one.

He twisted his mouth wryly but scooped a little out into a tea bag and left it to steep. “Do you need some of the hot water?”

“Yeah, thanks! And a fruit nappy if you have one clean.”

Something about the request stopped him in his tracks. “A what? I don't have anything, uh, magical.” He looked embarrassed.

“Oh, sorry. It’s not magical it’s just, uh, a small bowl like you would use for dessert? What do you call those?”

“Small bowls,” he mumbled around a yawn, “same as everyone else.” He set the small dish beside her herb piles and filled a big glass measuring cup with the remaining freshly boiled water. “Now what?”

“Now I turn the crushed herbs into a thick paste,” she explained, slowly mixing water and crushed herbs until they felt thick and wet enough. The resulting goo had a green-grey tinge and smelled strong and bitter. She dropped it in a neat dollop onto the cheesecloth, tucked the other herbs and a little bit of will on top and then pulled the corners up with a twist to form a neat sachet. “Crap.”

“What?” Dermid whispered, sounding nervous. “Did something go wrong?”

“Uh, this is a little embarrassing,” she hunched her shoulders a little as she looked up at him. “Do you have anything to tie this with?”

He huffed, relieved. “Of course,” and pulled a roll of butcher’s twine out from one of the drawers, cut a length of it and tucked it back away as though every normal person kept that on hand. “I thought something went wrong and it might be dangerous.”

Blago laughed, even as she held the sachet up for him to tie off. “Everything in here is pretty safe, if smelly.”

“Oh.” He took the finished poultice and held it up to take a closer look. “That’s pretty impressive.”

It was unnerving, having him examine her work with respect, his green eyes intent on the poultice. Her heart raced and Blago turned away to clear the table. Mostly she had floundered her way through learning magic and trying to apply it. She didn’t have a mentor, though Lau did what she could with her own limited knowledge. No one had ever said something like that to her before.

“Almost forgot!” She grabbed the bag off the ground. “I brought your clothes back. Yours and Su Jin’s,” she corrected, and hid a flush by bending over to dig them out of the bag.

“Oh right.” Dermid took the stack from her and then looked around awkwardly for somewhere to place them. He settled for the washing machine. “I don’t have yours washed yet,” he admitted. “But Su Jin wanted me to thank you for the loan again. Though it didn’t look like your style.”

Blago rolled her eyes. “There’s an understatement. It was Lau’s.”

“Of course it was,” he muttered.

Speaking of, Lau entered the kitchen and tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. “Are you done yet? Your werewolf friend is creeping me out.”

Dermid took a step back from Blago, as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Yeah, we’re done.”

“What do you mean creeping you out?” Blago asked. She took the poultice and crossed the room to Lau.

Lau’s constant awareness of death usually meant she was less squeamish than most, but it also meant she would make it perfectly clear when she wanted to get away from something with a bad aura.

“It’s like an open wound,” Lau whispered. “He was almost separated from his wolf entirely, and they need to be... stitched back together,” she finished, struggling over the description. “I can sense that weakness in him, like someone cut halfway through a limb and left it hanging by the sinew.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty gross.” Blago pulled a face. “Is the tea ready?” she asked Dermid, but he was already on it. He dropped the tea bag in the green waste bin and grabbed the steaming mug.

Lau hung back in the hallway when Blago and Dermid squeezed back into the living room. “You’re going to want to take your shirt off,” Blago said.

Antonio struggled to sit up-right, but didn’t make much progress until Jahni stepped in to move him and pull his shirt off for him. With a great deal of care, he gently lifted Antonio’s arms up and through the sleeves one at a time.

Blago watched surreptitiously, suddenly unsure if they were just friends. “You should drink the whole mug of tea and then sleep with this poultice over your heart,” she interrupted. “Against your skin, ideally.” She set it in the empty fruit nappy on a side table and stepped back.

“Anything else?” Dermid asked. He watched closely as Antonio downed half the tea in short order — with some assistance from Jahni to hold the mug steady.

“Uh, keep warm? Stay hydrated?” She shrugged. “More tea is good, but I’ve never seen anything like this before, so I don’t know. We’ll hope for the best and re-assess in the morning.”

Dermid rubbed at his eyes, tiredly but nodded. “Okay. You can stay here until you’re better,” he directed at Antonio.

“Thanks, man,” Antonio managed to reply. He sounded so weak. Nothing like the generally happy-go-lucky, overflowing-with-energy guy Blago had met before.

“I can take a sick day tomorrow,” Jahni piped up. “Keep an eye on him overnight. You got an extra blanket or something I can borrow?”

“We’ve got some air mattresses downstairs for when a pet needs to be monitored,” Dermid replied. “I’ll grab one for you.”

“In the meantime,” Blago did her best impression of Lau when she wanted something – flat expression, direct and unwavering eye contact even if it made her incredibly uncomfortable. “I need answers.”

Jahni sighed. “I told you — I don’t know your Carpenter guy.”

“Adam Carver,” Lau corrected from the doorway. “He stole from you.”

Antonio lolled his head to one side. “I mean, a lot of people do that? It’s, you know, one of the problems with some of the plots.”

“Which is why we had moved most of it into the greenhouses,” Jahni said. “I called in a favour to get that hidden door. We were nearly done.”

“You don’t know Adam Carver?” she asked Antonio directly, instead. He didn’t seem like he would be particularly capable of lying in his current state. “He was another werewolf.”

“Man there are lots of werewolves in this city,” Antonio sighed. “I only know some of them. Can’t think of any named Adam.”

“Yeah, like you know every Syrian person in the city?” Jahni asked, challenging.

Blago sighed. It had all seemed to add up before, but the connections she’d thought so solid and tangible seemed to be dissolving right in front of her. “Okay, I believe you.”

“I’m not cool with violence, dude,” Antonio added. “And Jahni, like, takes spiders outside to release them into the wild or something.”

“Shut up!” Jahni hissed, a flush high on his cheeks. More and more he reminded her of a feral cat, like maybe if she fed him enough times she’d earn his grudging acceptance.

“Good to know,” she replied, and joined Lau in the hall. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and you can tell me anything I missed last night. When you’re feeling better.” Blago waved awkwardly at Antonio. “Get well soon.”

When he thanked her again, the words hung heavy in the air. She and Lau took their leave quickly, ducking across the street and into the quiet of the shop, locking the door behind them.

“You want to stay here tonight?” she asked Lau. She still looked unsettled.

Lau shook her head then paused, and nodded slowly. “Actually, yes. If that’s okay.”

“It’s always okay,” Blago said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. They sidestepped the detritus from earlier in the evening and met Felicia on the stairs up. “You never need to ask. You know without you I would be lost, right?”

“That’s my line,” Lau muttered, and Blago didn’t argue. But she would have given Lau anything, if she ever asked.

“Come on,” she said instead. “You can borrow a pair of those PJs you can’t stand and we’ll order in for breakfast.”

Neither of them wanted to be alone that night.

***

They’d almost had one of them when the witch had interrupted. Now their prey was weak but surrounded by too many of her friends. They needed to get it alone.

The hunger pulled them back to the witch’s shop. Her friend, the seer, was the most dangerous to them, but it looked like she was staying put. They both snarled, frustrated.

They would both need to wait.

***

Lau snored, but they both managed to sleep deeply, exhausted and worn out. Blago woke eventually thanks to Felicia, who had decided to chew on her hair. She purred up a storm and snuffled her tiny nose into Blago’s ear like the world’s softest, most persistent alarm clock.

“I hear you,” Blago whispered. She slipped free of the blankets carefully so as not to wake Lau. “Give me a second.”

When Felicia had fresh water and cat food, and Blago had visited the bathroom, she grabbed her phone and crept downstairs, avoiding the creaky step and pulling up an app on her phone to order delivery. A place in the Annex made Lau’s favourite breakfast in the entire city — a decadent eggs Florentine — and Blago could think of nothing better to help her regain her equilibrium.

Blago put the candles back and curved the map up at the edges so she could pour the dust back into its container. It was hard to get hold of, and she wasn’t going to let it go to waste. By the time she had finished and put everything away in the back storage room, Felicia wound her way back downstairs and around Blago’s ankles. Blago could hear her loud purr without even bending down.

She scooped her up and rubbed her nose along Felicia’s whiskers, earning an affectionate head-butt in return. “You’re sneakier than I expected,” Blago murmured. “When I named you Felicia I didn’t think you’d become a master escape artist.”

Having had enough of the conversation, apparently, Felicia struggled free and launched herself at the bookshelf Blago liked to fill with all the magical reference books she could find. Or that found her.

“Careful—!” but it was too late. Felicia knocked loose an old volume which tipped spine-first onto the floor and fell open. Felicia, of course, landed gracefully next to it and immediately began to delicately wash one sleek black paw.

“Please be more careful,” Blago scolded. She scooped her up again and set her safely out of the way on an old chair. It took more strength than she remembered to lift the book securely. She’d found it at St. Lawrence Market by accident, but hadn’t had the time yet to read through it carefully. But it looked real, not something fake for the mundanes.

The page it fell open to was about merrows; a close relative of the mermaid. She didn’t know of any in the city, but skimmed the page out of interest. _Should a merrow and a human produce offspring, it read, their child will be cursed. Unable to use or create magic on their own, they will crave it; particularly susceptible to an infection contracted by any attempt to harvest magic from another creature, any offspring of a merrow and a human should be treated with caution._

Blago snapped the book shut and slid it back onto the shelf with a shiver, rubbing at her arms though she didn’t have AC for the store. Felicia stopped grooming herself and made a sound of indignation.

“It’s too early for this,” Blago muttered. She tugged her phone out of her pocket again to check the delivery status. It looked like it should be close, so she headed to the front of the store to keep an eye out.

Lau made her way down the stairs a few minutes later, hair pulled back in a neat bun and somehow making her borrowed clothes from Blago’s closet look more high-end. She also had coffee, which Blago accepted gratefully, indifferent to the heat outside. “I didn’t even know I had coffee.”

“Barely,” Lau held her own mug close to her nose. “Your French press looked like it had never been used before.”

“Yeah, because it hadn’t, until now.” She burned her tongue on the first sip but it was fine. She had caffeine, exactly what she needed. “Dad got it for me and I never figured out how to use it.”

Lau stared at her flatly. “Reading the instructions would’ve been a good place to start,” she said, but dropped it.

Across the street, Jahni left Dermid’s practice in yesterday’s clothes. He spotted them through the glass, and while he didn’t wave, he nodded in their direction. That counted as progress, at least a little, and Blago would take it.

She and Lau stood and watched Yonge Street come to life. The office towers were all further south or north, and most of the stores along her stretch didn’t open until eleven and stayed fairly quiet in the mornings. Slowly, people opened up their storefronts and set out sidewalk displays, or headed towards College or Church Street in search of food.

Yonge ran the length of the city like a major vein, pumping people and subway cars and traffic along side streets and thoroughfares and out into the rest of Old Toronto. It was quiet, though, an old town by day and a raucous university dorm by night. So while Blago usually got up earlier, she didn’t find it strange for her neighbours to wake up late and stay open late, and their delivery guy, when he stopped his bike out front of the shop, didn’t look surprised in the least.

Blago kept the sign on the door turned to closed and she and Lau trekked back upstairs to settle around her tiny kitchen table. They unpacked Lau’s eggs Florentine and Blago’s own order of heaven on earth — thick slices of French toast sandwiched between layers of cream cheese, honey, fresh berries and maple syrup.

“I deserve this,” Blago said and shoved a too-large bite into her mouth. She puffed her cheeks out like a chipmunk in winter.

“Yes,” Lau said, “I know,” cutting into her poached eggs so the yolk ran out and down onto the English muffins.

They ate in silence a little longer.

“He’s okay, you know?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Lau cut in sharply. She wasn’t mad, but she still clearly uncomfortable — in Blago’s clothes, in what had happened the night before, in using her powers — and Blago couldn’t do anything to make it better except drop it, at least for the moment.

They stayed quiet for the rest of the meal.

Blago followed Lau outside when she left, locking the door behind her. “I’m going to check on Antonio,” she said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Lau rolled her eyes as she tucked a stray bit of hair back behind Blago’s ear. “And I’ll bring your clothes back soon. Maybe.”

“That is my favourite shirt. You are bringing it back,” Blago said determinedly. The long-sleeved tee turned soft from many washings and had a hole in the right sleeve where her thumb could poke through. Perfect.

“We’ll see,” Lau muttered, and then uncharacteristically pulled Blago into a hug.

“Is this a thing now?” Blago asked, but hugged Lau tightly even as Lau pulled back. “Are we huggers now?”

“Consider it a favour,” Lau replied cryptically. Across the street, Dermid stood on the front steps of his practice. He bent to set out water dishes for dogs out on walks, fully dressed but hair still rough from the night before. When he stood back up again he waved, stilted and awkward before disappearing back inside.

Lau rolled her eyes and headed in the direction of the subway. She would always be something of a mystery to Blago, but since she wasn’t going to solve the mystery today, Blago ducked into the mid-morning traffic, jay-walked across the street, and strolled inside Dermid’s practice.

It looked like they weren’t quite open yet, but Blago wasn’t about to let that stop her. “Good morning!” she called cheerily to Su Jin.

“Um, good morning?” the girl replied with a definite, audible question mark. “We’re not actually open yet but—”

“Oh, I’m just here to check on a patient,” Blago waved her off. “Don’t mind me!” She darted around the desk and up the stairs before Su Jin could stop her.

In the morning light the upper floor looked narrower than it had the night before. Blago smacked her hip on the railing as she rounded the top of the stairs and knocked on the door to Dermid’s living room. The door, already half-open, swung wide at her touch. Luckily, Antonio sat upright and awake, looking better though far from fully recovered.

“Good morning! How are you doing?” she asked as she crossed the room.

His skin looked still several shades too pale and his arms trembled slightly, but he shifted further upright on his own and smiled at her. “Hey, good morning,” he replied as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“You can’t just come up here—” Su Jin called. She clambered up the stairs after her and into the room only to trip to a stop inside the doorway, her cheeks suddenly flushed pink as she took in Antonio. Her aura flared up again, stronger this time, and Blago’s eyes widened as she took in the thrashing sweep of nine long fox tails. Su Jin wasn’t just a spirit. She was a _gumiho_ , the capricious nine tailed fox known across Korea for violence and dangerous pranks.

Su Jin herself looked to be in her twenties, but for all Blago knew she could be centuries old, and definitely someone to be treated with respect. And she had completely lost control over her aura when surprised by a goofy, well-meaning, incredibly naive Antonio.

He wasn’t Blago’s type, but she guessed she could see the attraction. Antonio stayed in good shape, with strong arms and dark hair, artfully tousled to reveal neatly shaved sides. And he hadn’t yet managed to put on a shirt after the night before. That helped, too.

“Have you met Antonio?” Blago asked. “He’s going to be crashing with Dermid for a few days while he recovers.”

“Um, hi,” Su Jin mumbled, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. Her tails slowed their thrashing as the aura faded and Su Jin regained control.

“Hi,” Antonio replied breathlessly, wide-eyed. “What’s your name?”

Blago took that as her cue to slip back out into the kitchen to pull together another poultice and mug of tea. Luckily, it looked like Jahni had left the plants behind when he headed out that morning, and now that Blago knew where she could find the things she needed in Dermid’s kitchen, it didn’t take her long to create a fresh bundle and a pot of tea.

Su Jin must have made her way back downstairs by the time Blago returned to the living room, because she was nowhere to be seen and Antonio looked dreamy-eyed and distracted. “Here, drink this,” Blago said. She poured out a cup of tea. “I’ll leave the pot here so you can have more. It should help.”

His hands shook slightly, but Antonio managed to hold the cup on his own without spilling, and that seemed like major progress to Blago. He took a long drink and set the cup back down on the side table. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I feel better today.”

“I think it’ll still be awhile before you’re back to a hundred percent,” Blago cautioned. “And we don’t know what that shadow thing will try while you’re still weak. You should stay here until you’re completely better.”

“What about my job?” he asked, screwing up his nose.

Blago shrugged. “I’d call in sick if I were you,” she said. “Soul-sucking shadow things and froyo don’t mix.”

“My boss is going to kill me,” he mumbled.

“You can barely hold a mug of tea,” Blago pointed out. “Keep your fluids up, and put this poultice back on when you’re done. Get some rest — you need it. I’ll come back again tonight and make you a fresh one.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Okay.” Some colour returned to his cheeks, but he looked exhausted already just from sitting up for a while and making conversation.

“I need you to tell me a bit more about last night,” she said as he sipped at the tea. “What exactly happened?”

Antonio closed his eyes briefly and swallowed hard. “Jahni and I were going to meet up with the Tanuki. They’re the best people to buy the stuff we’ve been growing, you know?”

Blago would’ve thought she would be the best person to buy — well, not all of it, but some of it certainly. She held her tongue.

“We got there early. Jahni wanted to pull some stuff for their first order. But after a few minutes we, realized we needed more stuff. Like uh, those little digging shovels?”

“Spades?” Blago offered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Spades! Sorry, everything is kind of…” he wobbled one hand back and forth.

She nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Don’t worry, you’ll get better in a few days.”

He sighed heavily but picked up where he had left off. “So we went out back to where the city guys keep their stuff. Jahni went back in first, and I guess you guys were there for some reason? It took me a little longer to find a spade. When I headed back in I thought I heard someone behind me, but you know, sometimes the greenhouses are just kind of creepy.”

“Especially at night.” Blago certainly wasn’t keen to go back any time soon.

“Yeah. But I guess it wasn’t my imagination. One minute I was fine, just making my way to the next greenhouse, and the next it was like I had the worst flu ever. I got dizzy and my vision went all weird and everything got dark. And then I guess you showed up.”

It didn’t give her a lot more to work with, though she’d take what she could get. In silence she watched him finish the mug of tea and helped him lay back down on the couch; placed the fresh poultice over his heart and tried to push her will into it: some small belief he really would get better soon.

Whether it actually helped or not, she wasn’t sure, but he went out like a light. She closed the door softly behind her. Outside, she could faintly hear Su Jin and Dermid talking.

“Do you even—” Su Jin stopped, sounding resigned. “You told me to remind you to make smarter decisions.”

“It’s not like that!” Dermid hissed back.

One of them sighed — Su Jin, Blago thought. “I’m here if you need to talk,” she said finally. “...or if you need someone to check in on Antonio.”

“Uh huh,” Dermid replied. He sounded more amused then, more like himself. Confident. “I bet.”

“Shut up!” she whined.

It sounded personal, and Blago stepped backwards, trying to give them some privacy, but the floorboards creaked underfoot, loud and obvious in the mostly-empty building. She gave up and made her way down the stairs.

“Hey, I forgot to ask last time,” she said when she found them both behind the reception desk. “Did Felicia’s tests come back okay?”

Dermid rubbed at the back of his neck and made his way out from behind the desk and to the door, flipped the sign to open. “She’s completely healthy,” he said over his shoulder. “But you’ll want to bring her in once a year for shots and another check-up. And she’ll need to be fixed in a few months. Su Jin can book something.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Su Jin agreed, all professionalism. Blago would never have guessed she’d been rosy cheeked and starry eyed over the werewolf upstairs only a few minutes ago.

By the time Blago negotiated an appointment date, Dermid had disappeared somewhere into the back of the practice, the waiting area had two pugs and a labradoodle in it, and she needed to open her shop. One step forward, two steps back.


	10. Black Market Body Parts

They kept an eye on the old woman. She was the connection between Chimera and the witch, and she had stuck her nose into their business. She’s old anyway, the hunger said. Not long for this world.

They shook it off, reluctant to hurt her, but stayed close to her townhouse. She’d hosted a meeting of some kind, all people they had seen meet with Chimera. All potential threats. They left her home in twos and threes, all except for the last one. The old man. He stayed.

They watched the lengthy discussion through the window before the old man took his leave, his expression troubled.

What does he know? the hunger demanded.

They followed him. The act of stalking an interloper roused the hunger. It had been days since it had fed and it was ravenous, pulsing at the edges, pressing, escaping in short leaks like steam from a valve.

The old man hurried and the hunger grew excited. Their heart pumped double-time in their ears. It was right. He had seen them. He must have. His hand trembled on the key in the lock and he dropped it, twice.

That was their opening.

***

The shop stayed busy all day, which would be great for Blago’s bank accounts but terrible for getting a minute to herself to eat lunch. By two she debated asking a customer to run out for a sandwich, and by three she had started to get honest to God hangry.

She managed to fire off a text to Lau between customers — _Help me I’m starving_ — but didn’t have time to see if she responded. So when Eve entered the shop at three thirty instead, bearing what smelled like the pork katsu dinner from Kaiju Curry down the street, the surprise almost beat out her hunger. Almost.

“Please say one of those is for me,” Blago pleaded, too hungry to be wary of Eve’s holier than thou attitude.

Eve dropped the bag on the counter with a smirk, something dangerous in her bright red lips and sharp white teeth. “What can I say?” she asked. “I’m a giver.”

“You’re a lifesaver is what you are,” Blago replied cheerfully and pulled the bag closer, possessive.

Eve tapped her nails on the counter and eyed her carefully. “Actually, I hear that’s more your line of work these. Not that you told me about it.” She turned and stared down the last customers, her gaze sharp and aura bright, and within a minute the shop emptied of customers. Blago didn’t even care about the potential lost sales — she needed to eat three hours ago.

Instead, she rushed to lock the door and flipped the sign to closed, clearing the debris to one side of the counter with a sweep of her arm. Unfortunately she struggled to pick apart the knot on the plastic bag.

“Stop it,” Eve sighed and batted her hands away. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” Her fingers shifted quickly, suddenly golden furred and capped with sharp claws that she used to deftly slice through the knots. Inside she found three separate containers of sweet Japanese curry with pork cutlets and a creamy coleslaw.

Blago didn’t even care the owners had sent plastic forks instead of chopsticks. She hauled the top container over to herself and mixed it until the coleslaw and rice and cutlet and sauce became one big mess. She smeared a slice of breaded pork cutlet through the mix, and shoving a too large bite in her mouth with a groan of deep satisfaction.

“Where’s Lau?” Eve asked casually, unbothered by Blago’s frenzy. “I brought enough for three.”

“Not here,” Blago mumbled between bites. “She needs space today. But don’t worry, I’ll eat her share.” She tugged the third container closer to herself, greedy with hunger, and Eve let her with a frown. Blago didn’t want to have to carry the conversation when she could be eating, so she asked, “Anyways, what’s up? How’s your leg?”

“All better,” Eve replied absently. “Tell your vet friend thanks for me.” She paused for a moment, frowned again, and tapped at the counter with her still-shifted hand. “I’ve got some more information. I wasn’t sure, how accurate it was, which is why I didn’t share it earlier.”

“Okay?” Blago asked. She grabbed her Nalgene water bottle to wash down the curry. If Eve wanted to act friendly, Blago sure wasn’t going to pick a fight.

“Have you heard of the night market?” Eve asked.

“The one by the waterfront or the one beside Ryerson or…?” Blago trailed off. In hindsight, there were more than a few night markets in the city.

Eve glared at her. “I should’ve known. You’re kind of a goody-two-shoes, aren’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We’ve heard rumours for a while, but I recently received a credible report of black-market trade in dead magical creatures. A night market for...specialty parts.”

Blago swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Parts as in, like, parts?”

“Yes,” Eve said grimly. “My source said the Tanuki were involved, and when I heard from someone else about a meeting with a high-level member of the group at Riverdale, it seemed like too much of a coincidence.”

“An attack from the shadow and a black-market body sale in the same place? Yeah,” Blago agreed, “Yeah I can see how it doesn’t look good. So that’s why we found you there. What did you find out after?”

“I tracked the Tanuki down at a sports bar near here,” she said, and waved generally in a southern direction. “Put some fear back into them.” Her grin stretched too wide, slightly feral, and Blago thanked whatever gods she could that she was on Eve’s good side at the moment. “They promised they weren’t killing anyone, and I believe them, but they still wouldn’t tell me where they got the body parts.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not letting someone else do the killing for them,” Blago pointed out, closing her empty container.

“My thoughts exactly,” Eve muttered. “But that’s all I have so far, and I’m guessing based on your appetite you’ve made some progress, too,” she gestured.

So Blago had already opened the second container. So what? “Yeah,” she said, her pace slower now she had already scarfed down one full meal. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

It took the better part of an hour to fill Eve in on everything that had happened in the last few days, but for once, the Sphinx seemed happy with her. At any rate, she didn’t yell.

“I think I can help with some of that,” she said slowly. “I’ll get back to you.” When she left soon after, she even flipped the store sign back to open, her expression thoughtful rather than frustrated.

Blago chucked the empty curry containers in the trash and rubbed at Felicia’s ears, pressing her thumbs against the cartilage and eliciting a quiet purr.

“What do you think?” she asked quietly. “Am I in over my head?”

Felicia butted her cheek up against Blago’s hand in demand of further petting, as if the question didn’t even deserve an answer.

“Yeah,” Blago muttered. “Probably.”

***

The afternoon was, thankfully, a little slower. She managed to clean up the store, fold more sunshine sachets, put things back in their spots and do some restocking. Keeping up with inventory counts and restocking fell by the wayside when the store got busy, and it always came back to bite her when she ran out of something and people wanted it in a hurry. And they were always in a hurry – it wasn’t as if she had set up shop in slow-moving Vancouver or Ottawa.

“This is when Lau would remind me I need to hire a part-timer to do inventory,” Blago muttered to herself. Felicia meowed in agreement from her perch on an empty stretch of shelf, as if to emphasize the fact.

“Sorry, pal, I don’t think you count. Even if you are incredibly cute.”

When her phone rang a few minutes later, she assumed Lau had finally decided to get back to her. She answered it without checking the caller ID.

“Oh, hi,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Am I speaking to the emergency contact for Bl-Blagomir Simeon?” They stumbled over her name. It wasn’t hard to pronounce, but even in Toronto it was uncommon enough to trip up telemarketers.

“Is this an emergency?” she asked, mostly as a joke. Her mom’s advice had always been to ask if it was an emergency or, if someone wanted into her home for a stupid reason, to very flatly ask if they had a warrant.

“Um,” the person on the other end stuttered. “It could be?”

Blago rolled her eyes, even though no one would see except Felicia. “I’m Blago— Blagomir,” she corrected. “Lay it on me, kid.”

He gulped, audibly. The guy had to be a student, or someone at a call centre. Blago didn’t envy him, though she wasn’t exactly feeling favourable towards him either. “Are you aware the university is currently running a fundraising campaign?”

“Yeah.” Blago tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder to free up her hands. Universities always seemed to be running some sort of campaign. Vaguely she remembered maybe seeing some banners on the lamp posts near the Royal Ontario Museum.

“And as a member of our alumni community, you know the university changes lives,” he pushed ahead but Blago cut him off sharply.

“I never graduated.”

“Sorry, what?” he asked, thrown.

“I never graduated,” she stressed. “I’m not a member of your alumni community.” She took the phone back in her hand and gripped it a little too tight, clenched her teeth briefly. “I shouldn’t even be on your list. Take me off your call list. Please.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to—”

“Off. Your. List.”

She waited a minute for him to actually confirm it, hung up and immediately blocked the number. “Assholes.”

The call left her twitchy and restless, and she set about re-organizing the shelves up front, again, even though she had already done it. The front of the store held all cheap top hats and silk scarves and card tricks. Kid stuff.

When she had been a student she’d had lots of friends. Some from her classes, or the dorms. Some from the Magic Club she’d joined, mostly as a joke. Her mom had only done a little magic at home but she’d always seemed so comfortable and natural with it.

It wasn’t something they did together.

Her mom had been busy teaching classes, or holding office hours, or checking in on the tenants in what was now Blago’s shop but back then had been a bookstore with a little office area upstairs.

Her mom had never been particularly impressed with Blago’s choice of extracurriculars. “You could’ve joined one of the community service groups,” she’d said more than once. “Something that will look good on a resume.”

All the clubs in the world couldn’t have made up for Blago dropping out of the University of Toronto in third year with a 71 average and a handful of mundane sleight of hand tricks up her sleeve. All she’d ever wanted was to impress her mom.

Getting into U of T had been huge for her, but her mom’s reaction had been a let-down. Instead of pride or excitement, she had been incredibly practical about it, focused on the fact that Blago wouldn’t need to get a line of credit or a student loan to pay for her degree since the children of faculty could attend for free. As much as Blago loved and admired her mom, it always seemed like nothing would ever be good enough for her. Blago could never be good enough.

And what had Blago achieved? Twenty-six years old, no degree, crying into a handful of trick scarves in broad daylight. She rubbed furiously at her eyes, wiped them repeatedly on the sleeves of her shirt, and sniffled. Too dumb for university, too average to gain any sort of approval from her mom, too lazy to figure out magic on her own, relying on Google and Lau and hoping any of it would work.

Her phone chimed again, this time with a text message from her dad. _Dinner??_ It read. _If you don’t already have a date anyway._ When she laughed, it came out choked around half a sob. She thumbed back a quick _yes, when_?

My shift ends in half an hour. One of a Kind?

 _I’ll meet you at the subway_ she replied, and closed up shop for the day. She could pull herself together in half an hour, probably. After all, there was a steak dinner in it for her.

***

She held it together pretty well through the subway ride south and then the streetcar trip west on Queen. One of a Kind was a little hole in the wall where, for some reason, most people ordered the pasta. Blago and her dad knew better — they went for the steak.

The place never seemed to change. Worn, somewhat shabby velvet curtains hung inside the door to create a small foyer, and beyond that, battered maroon walls, wax candles pooling on a sideboard, and tinny Frank Sinatra coming from a dusty cd player. She recognized the chalkboard specials from the last time they’d eaten there, but the owner always had a table for them. The dim light and worn menus sat familiar and good in her hands, and most of all, the steak was amazing: tender and juicy and served with the best au jus she had ever put in her mouth.

They ordered pretty quickly and started in on a basket of garlic bread, but Blago fiddled with her napkin, distracted. “Do you remember when we used to come here, the three of us?” she blurted out, apropos of nothing.

Her dad’s gaze softened, and he looked at a nearby empty seat. “This was your mother’s favourite restaurant,” he said, his smile sad. “But she always made the same mistake—”

“—and ordered the lobster instead of the New York strip,” Blago finished for him. “Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a moment before her dad spoke up again. “Why?”

Blago twisted her napkin tightly. “I just… I don’t know how mom did it,” she said finally.

“Did what?”

“Everything,” Blago gestured expansively at the restaurant, “She was a professor, she did magic, she was a landlord, and she did mom stuff. I’m guessing you guys still went out for date night, and, and…” She scrubbed both hands through her hair, frustrated before blurting out, “Dad, I’m nothing like her!”

It hurt more than she would have cared to admit, and it hurt worse when his first reaction was to laugh at her. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized after a minute, “I mean, yeah, you’re a little like her, Blagomir,” he said slowly. “But mostly you’re like me.”

“What?” she asked but he kept going.

“I loved your mother — so much. She was the love of my life. But she liked research, you know?”

Blago sniffled around a small laugh. “Remember when I decided I wanted to take swimming lessons?” she asked shyly. They hadn’t talked about that since the funeral.

“And she did an analysis of all the YMCAs and rec centres downtown to see which one would be the best option?” he replied fondly. “Yeah. Those academic types don’t know how to stop researching. It’s what made your mother such a great teacher, I’d bet. She always welcomed new questions and tried to find the best answers for her students.”

In hindsight, that made the office hours seem less like she wasn’t interested in spending time with Blago and more like she had been focused on being good at her job and supporting students. Blago bit her lip and looked away. “I wasn’t like that. I wasn’t a great student,” she admitted.

“Hell, me neither, kid. You and I have always been ‘dive in first, maybe read the instructions’ types.” He gave her one of those lopsided smiles that came out most often when he talked about her mom. “She read the instructions and every question before even picking up her pen. And it’s not better one way or the other, but just…” He tilted his head to one side, looking into the middle distance. “There’s no reason to try and compare yourself to her, you know? She wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. She’d be proud of you.”

“Of my weird magic shop?” Blago wrinkled her nose. She struggled to imagine it. Her mom had been so _mad_ when Blago joined the magic club.

“Of you finding your own path and becoming a successful businesswoman,” he replied seriously. “She was surprised you applied to U of T instead of going to a college or learning a trade. Always said she thought you were too practical for a bachelor’s degree, and too much like me to get into magic.”

Her eyes stung, and Blago gripped tighter at the cloth napkin in her lap, looking down. “She never said anything to me about that.”

“She didn’t want to discourage you, in case you decided you liked it. The thing about having kids,” he said, and repeated himself when Blago groaned, “The thing about having kids, is you can’t predict them, and you can’t make them choose one thing or another, or follow in your footsteps. They’re going to choose whatever they want.” He reached across the table and pulled one arm free, squeezed at her wrist when he finally caught it. “All you can do as a parent is try to support them, keep them safe, and listen when they need someone to talk to.”

Blago swallowed. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Besides,” he added as he let her go. “Your mother was terrible at magic. She had no one to teach her and she couldn’t find any ‘reliable sources’.” That last statement he put in air quotes.

“What? She scryed all the time!”

“She used that more as a mindful meditation thing, I think.” He grinned. “She had some complicated falling out with her family around the whole magic thing, but I think she wanted to have something in common with you. Something she could talk to you about when you finally decided to pursue magic. After all, we always knew you had talent.”

Blago leaned back in her chair.

So much just happened she didn’t know where to begin. Like everything she thought she knew about her mom and their relationship for the past few years had been completely flipped on its head. “I had no idea.”

Her dad smiled, wistful. “I wish you’d had more time to get to know her as an adult.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Me, too.”

But even though she’d lost her mom so young, she still had her dad, and they had grown closer now than they had been during school. From what she could tell, a lot of people didn’t even get that much. Lau certainly hadn’t.

“Which is why you should settle down soon!” he piped up again a second later. “Make the most of your fertile years!”

Blago groaned.

***

By the time she got back to Yonge, the sky had started to darken the way it did in late summer evenings — slowly, like it set itself to mood lighting. She made an executive decision and stayed on the west side of the street, letting herself into Dermid’s practice with a jingle of the bell.

“It’s just me!” she called out as she climbed the stairs two at a time. When she made it up, Dermid had pulled a chair up to the couch so he could talk to Antonio, who sat upright, steadier than the other day. His colour had incrementally improved. “Hey, how’re you doing?” she asked as she flopped down next to Antonio on the couch.

He brushed his hair out of his face and grinned sheepishly. “A lot better, but definitely not good enough for stairs yet.”

“He got a little over-confident today,” Dermid added. His sly grin contained a killer combination of all perfectly straight white teeth and a dimple on his left cheek, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Eh, you’re a werewolf,” Blago shrugged. “Not used to having to suck it up and heal slowly like the rest of us?”

Antonio grinned ruefully. “Yeah, now I finally sort of get it, I guess. The tea and stuff helps though,” he added with a, gesture to the trash bin where the previous poultices and tea bags accumulated.

“Do you need more?” she asked, half out of her seat, but Dermid beat her to it.

“I got it,” he waved her off. “That poultice didn’t look complicated, and I’m pretty sure I can make some tea.” He disappeared into the hall and, presumably, the kitchen.

“Your vet dude is super chatty,” Antonio said quietly, sinking more deeply back against the cushions. “I don’t know if he’s hitting on me or what, but it’s kind of hilarious.”

“What?”

“Totally flirty, very talkative,” Antonio repeated, adamant. “He’s really getting into it, wants to know everything about everything. Werewolves, magical plants, the Tanuki. And,” he added, his nose wrinkled, “about you.”

“Me? Wait what? What do you mean everything about everything?”

Antonio didn’t roll his eyes or get annoyed by her questions, the way some people did when her brain headed in three directions at once. He answered her, easy and straightforward, without looking any deeper. “He like, just found out about magic and stuff, right? Asked me about changing on the full moon, what kind of stuff we’re selling, how that all works, if I eat people when I change, you know,” he shrugged. “Lots of questions.”

Blago couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. Movies, especially B-horror movies, made a big deal about werewolves turning into uncontrollable beasts on the full moon, but Blago had always found it to be kind of the opposite. The few she had met usually mellowed out on the full moon, and grew crabby closer to the new moon, more irritable.

“What’d you tell him?” she asked slyly.

“That my cycle synced up with my female friends, not the moon. And that chocolate isn’t poisonous to werewolves, just dogs.” Antonio snickered and Blago laughed loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Dermid asked as he came back into the room. He set the tea and poultice down on the side table next to Antonio.

“Menstruation,” Blago said with a shit-eating grin. Dermid ignored her, though he did look a little embarrassed; “It was a valid question,” he muttered.

“Hey, ask anything you want,” Blago spread her palms. “I’ll answer it a lot more honestly than this guy. But I reserve the right to laugh at you.”

Dermid looked at Blago with some trepidation, but asked earnestly, “Can you use magic to clean your apartment? Or say, accidents in the vet clinic?”

“I mean, in theory maybe but you’ve seen Fantasia, right?”

Dermid nodded.

“I tried it in residence,” Blago confessed. “It did not go well.”

“Yeah, Jahni bought an enchanted Roomba off Craigslist once,” Antonio nodded. “It was bad news.”

Blago raised her palms in surrender. “Just man up and do it yourself. Or hire someone! This place seems to get busier every day. Anyway, I meant to ask,” she continued, “how did you find us the other night?”

He looked doubly embarrassed. “You and Lau are pretty obvious,” he said, “and the last time you went out, you wound up here looking for medical attention, so I… I followed you,” he admitted.

Blago whistled. “Whoa, didn’t know you had it in you!”

He flushed, but continued, “It took me awhile to catch up. I lost you for a bit, but the only place nearby that sounded anything like Riverdale Farm was the park. I waited outside the gate until I saw a dark SUV leave, and figured everything was done. When I headed deeper into the park I saw…” he trailed off.

“Go on.” Blago leaned forward. Normally she couldn’t ask a mundane what their interaction with the supernatural looked or felt like. She had been presented with a rare opportunity.

“Well, at first I thought it was a trick of the light,” he frowned, “but it looked like a shadow leached out of the building and then disappeared into the trees. And I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“So you came inside,” she extrapolated, “to make sure we were okay?”

He gestured at Antonio. “And it was a good thing I did!”

Blago waved him off. “Eh, we would’ve brought him here anyway. Where else do you take a sick werewolf but the vet?”

“Hey!” both Dermid and Antonio said in unison.

“I don’t make the rules,” she said smugly. “But since you’re doing better,” she turned to Antonio. “You want to tell me why you met up with the Tanuki alone in a greenhouse full of illegal drugs?”

“What?!” Dermid yelped. “I thought you said they were just normal plants!”

Antonio rolled his eyes. “They’re not illegal plants — the mundane government doesn’t know anything about them, so they’re not legislated. And we have a permit.”

“Let me guess — from Eve MacLeod?” Blago asked drily. As the pieces fit together she realized she had a few more questions for Eve.

“Yeah, you know her?” Antonio perked up. “She’s super nice! Anyways, we sell to the Tanuki and they distribute the stuff. Nothing strange about it.” He really did seem to believe it.

Blago sighed. She hadn’t said anything the night before because he had seemed so frail, but if he felt well enough to crack jokes he was well enough to hear the truth. “The Tanuki are basically the mob, dude. You need to find a way out of that. You and Jahni both.”

“Really? You think so?” He sounded earnest. “Maybe you should talk to Jahni.”

And yeah, maybe she would. Someone needed to.


	11. The Suburbs

The next morning, Lau blew into the shop like nothing had happened, trailing an airy scarf and carrying two cups from the bubble tea place down the street.

Blago opened the store, though the early hour meant there wouldn’t be customers for a while, so she had also pulled her scrying pot out and begun to set it up. Felicia supervised from the counter.

“I got you that hazelnut thing with pudding,” Lau said, her mouth a moue of distaste.

“Thanks,” Blago replied. She wasn’t going to talk about it if Lau didn’t want to talk about it. That was the second rule of being friends with Lau, the first rule being do as Lau said. Lau always knew better.

“What are you doing?” She set a cushion on the other side of the pot. “Scrying again?”

Blago shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I still haven’t found my familiar and, well…” she trailed off.

“It’s getting more dangerous,” Lau finished as Felicia hopped down off the counter and prowled across the room to sit, tail thwapping back and forth, beside the pot.

“Yeah,” Blago sighed. She centred herself and tried to focus on the pot. Felicia’s tail hit the floor in time with her own, steady breath as she tried to clear her mind.

She focused on spreading her mind out, letting it pool from the bowl outwards, all while keeping the idea of her familiar firmly fixed at the front of her mind. Instead, the world sat wrong, somehow; stiff instead of liquid.

She had just begun to try and sift through those reactions when Felicia smacked the scrying pot, spilling its contents all over the wood floors with a thud and a clatter.

“Felicia! What the hell!” Blago and Lau both scrambled up and back, away from the contents. Felicia had self-satisfied look on her face, sauntering away with her tail high in the air.

Lau kicked her cushion away from the spreading mess. “I’ll grab the towels.”

Not exactly an auspicious start to the day, and things continued in the same vein.

A run of mundane customers swept in, but most of them simply wandered the store before they left without actually buying anything. The non-mundane regulars who stopped in that day all required a great deal of help for small purchases. Her till wasn’t particularly full and Blago’s head pounded.

So of course Eve showed up around five, when Blago typically got more customers from the post-work foot traffic. Of course she did. She fully expected to lose sales thanks to further BIA business.

Despite that, Blago decided to say hi, but Eve basically looked right past her like she was invisible and instead focused on Lau. She barely blinked, eyes focused though her shoulders had hunched slightly towards her ears. It was a strange look on someone who Blago had seen confidently wear pleather leggings and a matching jacket more than once, though never together. As someone who felt conspicuous in cut-off jeans and a t-shirt, she couldn’t imagine having the kind of confidence and self-assurance to pull off any of Eve’s looks.

The last time she had visited, Blago remembered, she had brought food for Lau and seemed sort of down when she found out Lau wasn’t actually around. Blago had been focused on stuffing her face, but she still noticed things occasionally!

Blago couldn’t hear what Eve and Lau said over the general din of customers, but she tried to keep an eye on them. Eve visibly steeled herself, for once, decidedly uncool, though Lau looked as unruffled as always.

Strange, Blago thought. Normally Eve doesn’t seem like she’s trying to be anything. She just...is. Most days Blago would be jealous of that, but today she enjoyed seeing someone else feel awkward and wrong-footed. The whole situation was bizarre. And Lau’s posture, somewhat aloof but clearly deeply aware of Eve, kind of reminded her of — oh.

Suddenly it all clicked into place. Eve liked Lau, and while Lau was clearly interested, she enjoyed few things more than playing hard to get. Hence the array of suitors from whom she could borrow a fancy car on short notice. Lau could have a side business testing people to see if they were worth her time.

Blago watched them a little longer: the way Eve kept her whole body turned towards Lau; the way Lau brushed her hair back out of her face and mixed flirtatious glances from under her lashes with glances away. It had been awhile since Blago has seen her that interested in someone; that cute about it.

Blago grinned to herself and ducked her head in case either of them looked in her direction, looking out the window.

Across the street, Jahni exited Dermid’s practice and stood still on the step for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, she waved at him in a kind of sloppy semaphore, gestured him over until he acknowledged her reluctantly with a raised hand and jogged across the street.

It took a few minutes for there to be enough of a lull that she could talk to him.

“Hey,” Jahni said, hands in his pockets and looking deeply uncomfortable to be there. “Thanks again for taking care of Antonio.”

“Oh, I’m happy to help,” Blago replied easily. It was true, and she took no small joy in rubbing Jahni the wrong way. He didn’t like her, and he had the sort of stoic face which didn’t often seem to betray emotion. Eliciting any response counted as a win. She didn’t have any siblings, but around people like Jahni she kind of got the dynamic. “Speaking of Antonio — you know, I was visiting him the other day and he mentioned something to me.”

“Uh huh,” Jahni looked leery.

“Why on earth would you sell to the Tanuki instead of someone like me?” she asked, cutting right to it.

“You’re what?” Eve shouted, turning sharply. She stomped across the space, her boots loud and her expression louder. Several customers glanced nervously in her direction.

Jahni immediately went on the defensive. “Who else would buy that stuff? A pharmacy?” he asked, hunching his shoulders. “It’s not exactly mainstream, and we don’t know anyone else!”

“Local businesses!” Eve shouted with a sharp gesture towards Blago.

For her part, Blago just tried to stay out of the line of fire, stepping back a little only to catch Lau watching them with a sort of subtle, unholy pleasure.

“I’m part of the business interests association!” Eve continued. “You think I got you that permit for shits and giggles? I honestly did not think I was giving you a fucking _riddle_.”

“Well you didn’t exactly specify, either!” Jahni snapped back. “If you want something in particular next time, say so!”

“I shouldn’t have had to!” Eve glowed with fury; her nails stretched slightly into claws, her eyes growing feline, and her hair more golden. Blago understood, more clearly then than ever, that Eve was one hundred percent predator, and she did not want to get on her bad side.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Lau cut in, sounding bored. “There are mundanes here. Get yourself under control.” She waited for Eve and Jahni to both calm down before continuing, though neither of them looked happy about it. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You have already had contact with the Tanuki,” she said to Eve, “and you’re in a position of power. You’ll be the one to tell them Jahni and Antonio won’t be selling to them anymore. Find a reason. Something that will protect him and Antonio from retaliation.”

Eve didn’t exactly look happy, but she didn’t look unhappy, either. “Jahni,” Lau continued, blasé, “is about to sign into an exclusive deal with Blago as his distributor. I’ll even have a contract written up so it’s formalized.”

“Um,” Blago raised her hand, “I’m not sure I’m actually allowed to sell that kind of thing?” She didn’t mean for it to come out as a question. She was at least 95% sure her shop wasn’t licensed that way with the city.

“Eve will arrange for a permit,” Lau said archly with a wave of her hand.

Eve might have been the head of a BIA and not a city council member, but she did seem to have a way of making things happen. Blago crossed her fingers and hoped it was all legal and above-board.

“Good? Excellent,” Lau finished. “Now everyone can stop yelling before you give me a headache.” She gave Eve a slightly bored once over. “And when you’ve sorted this out, you can take me to a Jays game.” With that, she smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dress and headed upstairs.

Evidently, sorting out the drama had drained her interested in playing hard to get with Eve, at least for the moment.

A tense silence followed in her wake as Jahni and Eve glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Blago would very much have liked to leave, too, but like a prey animal she stood frozen behind the counter, unwilling to remind them of her presence.

Felicia, however, had no such fear. She hopped up on the counter, brushed her side against Blago’s arm, then Jahni’s, and then weaved over to sniff delicately at Eve’s still slightly too long nails before meowing sweetly.

Miraculously, it helped. Eve inhaled sharply and pulled her nails back into her normal, close-trimmed manicure before turning to Blago. “I’ll get you a permit,” she said shortly, sweeping out of the store with an air of finality.

Jahni breathed out, and it only then did Blago realize he had been holding his breath.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he snapped and then closed his eyes, weary. “I’ll see you around.”

He left, too, and which left only Blago, Felicia, and a handful of mundanes alone in the shop. Her stomach growled and Felicia’s ears twitched.

“How about some food for both of us?” she asked Felicia. She rubbed her furry little ears briskly. Felicia clearly agreed with the plan, and let her know with a strong purr as she scent marked Blago’s fingers.

At least someone was happy with her.

***

Between the ongoing failure of trying to find her familiar, attempting to predict the shadow’s next move, and general upkeep on her life, lately all Blago did was work the store and check in on Antonio.

He had made good progress, but she still had to remind herself that everyone else the shadow encountered died. It shouldn’t have been surprising to her that his recovery still took a while, even for a werewolf.

Antonio’s boss, on the other hand, didn’t share that understanding. When she visited Antonio at Dermid’s again a few days later, he looked glum and listless.

“Hey, what’s up?” She flopped onto the nearest chair. To say it had been a long week would’ve been an understatement. “Dermid’s super healthy food not agreeing with you or something?”

“My boss fired me,” Antonio said, his gaze fixed dejectedly on the floor.

“What? Why?” Antonio might not have been the brightest tool in the shed, but he was cute, and earnest, and she had seen him at the froyo place— he had solid people skills which could be hard to find.

“Pretty sure he thinks I’m faking being sick,” Antonio mumbled and oh, yeah. That made sense. It wasn’t like he could send in a note from a veterinarian. Or a witch. Definitely not to a mundane business owner, even if most of his clientele fell on the decidedly magical end of the spectrum. “Any idea when I’ll be better? I need a job.”

His puppy eyes pretty much killed her. She could only imagine how hard it had been for Su Jin to stay downstairs at the desk. Dermid’s practice had been hopping, same as Blago’s shop, and they were both overwhelmed with foot traffic. Between Pride weekend coming up and the warm weather, it seemed like half the city was out walking up and down Yonge Street.

“Maybe another week?” Blago guessed. “You’re making good progress! And hey, you’ll definitely find something,” she said. “I’ve seen you in action. Lots of shops around here would kill to have someone as good at customer service as you are.”

“I guess.” Blago hated to see Antonio so downtrodden rather than displaying his usual happy-go-lucky attitude. “All I really know how to do is work the cash and talk to people.”

Blago scoffed. “I didn’t even know how to work the cash when I opened my place, so you’re already one up on me,” she replied. “And anyway, that’s most of the job in retail. Be nice to people, listen to them, put stuff away and work the cash. Look at how busy it is out there,” she added with a jerk of her thumb towards the window. “Half the places on this block are going to need extra help.”

And then it hit her. “In fact,” she said slowly, “if you’re willing to try it, I could use another pair of hands.”

“What?” Antonio asked.

“Lau and I have been talking about it for a while,” she continued as the idea started to come together for her. “Someone who can sell top hats and trick dice to norms but who understands the real stuff and the magical community. Who can work the cash and cover the store. Have you done inventory before?”

“Yes?” Antonio still looked sort of confused.

Blago usually put off inventory as long as possible. “Great! You want a job?”

“Yes?” he repeated, and then more steadily, “Yes!”

“Done,” she held out her hand and they shook on it briskly. “Plus, since I’ll be stocking your and Jahni’s herbs and stuff, who better to help sell it?”

“This isn’t, like, a pity job, right?” he asked cautiously.

“Antonio,” she stopped and looked at him seriously. “You would be doing me a huge favour. But you still need to rest up so you can charm all my customers and do the heavy lifting I am not into. Still sound good?”

Antonio’s smile made it look like he was already that much closer to recovery, some of the weight taken off his shoulders. There was a little magic in that kind of simple happiness, Blago knew, and she felt good to see it spread through him.

“Yeah,” he agreed fervently, “Yeah that sounds great.”

***

Of course, none of that surprised Lau. “I thought so,” she said smugly, handing over a stack of paper which included a contract for her and Jahni and a set of tax forms for hiring new employees. Half of Antonio’s information had already been typed into the fields before printing.

“You’re scary sometimes, you know?” Blago said, but she meant it in the best way.

“I’m scary all the time,” Lau sniffed.

“Well, Eve certainly thinks so.”

That raised a flush on Lau’s pale cheeks. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Blago grinned. “Uh huh. So how long are you going to drag this out?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “If you were going to dig people up to harvest parts of their bodies, where would you go?”

Blago made a face before she remembered Eve’s comments about the Tanuki’s other business. She hauled her laptop out from under the counter. She had covered it in stickers over the years and the fan ran loud, especially on summer days, but it still worked and that was what mattered. She didn’t exactly get a student discount any more. “Would you believe there’s a whole Wikipedia page about cemeteries in Toronto?” she asked a minute later as she scrolled through the list.

“Obviously.” She didn’t look up, but she could hear Lau roll her eyes.

“Well I think I found the first place we should look,” Blago continued. “It’s right next to Riverdale Farm and contains fifty thousand graves. Fifty thousand!”

“The Toronto Necropolis?” Lau asked, coming around the counter to peer over her shoulder. Her hair tickled along Blago’s shoulder until she shrugged free of it. “It’s a fairly prestigious burial ground. The security might be too tight for the Tanuki.”

Of course Lau knew about the Necropolis. In hindsight, having it so close to Riverdale, she must have felt it pretty strongly the night they found Eve and the Tanuki. “Okay so maybe not this one,” Blago mumbled, mostly to herself. “Something less fancy and maybe more recent, since they have to be able to figure out which graves to rob, right?” She paused. “Actually, Elżbeta mentioned something about that. Someone dug up the Harold’s friend’s grave.”

“Awful,” Lau shuddered. “But how would they know about recent burials? The Tanuki like partnering up. Maybe they’re working with a funeral home?”

“Good call,” Blago agreed, and pulled up a tab to do another search before her fingers stilled on the keyboard.

“What?” Lau asked, impatient.

Blago sighed. “If I wanted to know which funeral homes might be sketchy, robbing the dead, and involved in organized crime, you know who I would ask?”

Lau opened her mouth and then closed it again as she got what Blago meant. “Your dad.”

“My dad,” Blago agreed.

***

Blago’s dad didn’t work that kind of case, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what was going on in the area. The trick was always to distract him so he didn’t think about why, exactly, Blago wanted the information.

Weekly dinners with her dad started during Blago’s university years. Her mom often couldn’t make it, but at least once a week her dad would take her out somewhere and make sure she got some “real food” and wasn’t living entirely off banh mi and poutine. They kept up the tradition after her mom passed away, though sometimes instead of dinner they had lunch or a weekend breakfast before the brunch crowds hit.

So it wasn’t unusual for her to invite her dad to sit down for takeout with her and Lau at Blago’s apartment on a Friday night. A chicken and waffles place in Kensington Market had changed Blago’s view on the dish from ‘why do Americans like this’ to ‘oh god yes please more’ — and they delivered.

The food arrived only a few minutes before her dad, and she and Lau pulled it all out of the boxes and onto proper plates, setting the table. They had just finished when he knocked perfunctorily on the upstairs door-frame and let himself inside.

“How are my two favourite people?” He set a case of San Pellegrino — Lau’s favourite — into the fridge to stay cool.

“Blago is finally hiring someone,” Lau said after she gave him a peck on the cheek.

Her dad visibly brightened. “Oh good! Then you’ll have more time for a social life!”

“Or inventory,” Blago frowned. “I hear inventory counts are important.”

Lau shrugged, graceful in a way Blago had only ever seen in old movies or at the ballet. “Only if you care about accuracy,” she agreed. Her tone heavily implied that Blago should care _deeply_ about accuracy.

They made the usual small talk as they started eating: new businesses in the area, ongoing transit drama at city hall, the upcoming Pride Week that would take over the neighbourhood with rainbows as part of the full month of special events. Blago’s dad marched as a civilian in the pride parade, most years with PFLAG, and was —as always — pretty excited.

“By the way,” Lau cut in at a natural break, “I was wondering if you could settle something for us.”

Blago’s dad looked up from where he had carefully assembled the right ratio of chicken, waffle, and maple syrup for his next bite. “I thought usually you won arguments by default?”

“In this case we need your particular expertise,” Lau replied, sidestepping the question. “Blago has this idea that certain kinds of crime are much less prevalent in Canada. I believe the rate is probably similar or the same, once you account for our smaller population. For example, funeral home scams,” Lau gestured as if she just plucked one crime at random from the air, and because it was Lau, Blago’s dad believed her.

“Well, you’re both right,” he said. “Gun violence, for example, happens a lot less here than in the States, but you know car accidents account for most of the unnatural deaths in Toronto. But if we’re talking about funeral homes,” he grew excited and leaned closer across the table, “it’s actually pretty exciting. The mob owns all sorts of establishments downtown — money laundering fronts mostly — but they run other things, like their own semi-legit accounting services and funeral homes, outside the core. Sometimes they even creep in as far as Scarborough and Etobicoke.”

Toronto had amalgamated with some of the surrounding suburbs a few years ago, bringing lower-density areas under the same city hall which ran the dense downtown area, much to everyone’s mutual displeasure. Blago didn’t generally travel north of Bloor Street if she could help it, and Lau made fun of her for it constantly.

“What do you mean by ‘semi-legit’?” Lau asked.

Blago could actually see her dad warm to the topic. “Let’s say you run a small accounting firm in Etobicoke, and most of the clients are normal people from the neighbourhood — small businesses, people who need help with their taxes or handling an estate. But most of the staff are actually part of organized crime. They’ll also handle the mob’s finances, doing some real shady work and hiding it under the guise of a mostly lawful business.”

“Sneaky.” Blago was honestly impressed. “But how would that work with a funeral home?”

“In that case, it’s again a mostly lawful funeral home, but they might bury the mob’s victims under the bodies of ordinary people. Or they might rob the bodies during or after burial, taking valuables. Or even, if they get the body immediately after death, harvesting organs or body parts to sell on the black market, since it’s illegal to sell any kind of tissue or fluid.”

“Wait what? Ew.” Blago eyed the rest of her food, thought better of it, and kept eating. It wasn’t the most appetizing dinner conversation, but honestly? She was kind of used to it. “Are you saying someone is doing this right now in Toronto?”

He thought about that for a moment. “We’re running an investigation right now, but I doubt you’re going to go investigate on your own. It’s a crematorium and funeral home in Etobicoke. A pretty big one. ...You seem awfully interested in this,” he added, suddenly suspicious.

Lau of course had already turned to look out the window. “Oh, there’s Dermid,” she said casually. “Has Blago told you about him?”

Her dad immediately peered out the window. “Are you dating him? He’s handsome! Should we invite him up to eat with us?” Already much too obvious, Blago flushed with embarrassment.

“We’re almost done,” she deflected desperately. “There’s really no need. And no! We’re not dating.”

He turned back to her, his brow furrowed. “Well why not?”

She scowled at Lau. One crisis averted, another one begun. “Lau’s dating the head of the magical BIA, which keeps getting me into trouble!” she blurted out. It was her only defense, really.

“It’s new,” Lau replied, totally unfazed. “But yes, that’s true.” Well, sort of true, as far as Blago could tell.

“I’m sure she’s very nice then,” her dad said reasonably. “Lau has good judgement. Now tell me about Dermid!”

It would be a very long evening.

***

Sleep hadn’t changed anything. Blago woke still upset with Lau, despite her protests that it was for a good cause, but she couldn’t stay that way. Too many other things on her plate. Lau bribed her with a finished contract for Antonio and Jahni, as well as Antonio’s job paperwork, and she truly did appreciate it.

Jahni stopped by in the afternoon to take the contract home to review, sullen and quiet. Blago remembered acting similarly when she didn’t want to let her parents know they’d been right about something being a good idea. It was kind of cute.

Between that and preparations for the Ouija board party, Blago was swamped. Her order of mundane Ouija boards came in at the same time as the very much not mundane planchettes, and it seemed as though the boxes had learned how to clone themselves.

When she received a delivery of something soft, Blago had no compunctions about hitting the tape on the box with the side of her fist to dent the cardboard and easily rip the tape off. That didn’t work well with hard, fragile, or tightly-packed items, however — all of which described her latest batch of deliveries. Instead, she had to kneel on the floor, painstakingly drawing her box cutter along the seams without puncturing too deep and risking scratching the contents.

“Oh, you’re being civilized with the boxes today,” Lau commented as she swept into the store. Lau never casually entered or walked into a space; she swept where Blago frequently stumbled.

“This isn’t for you,” Blago said, hauling out another set of Ouija boards out of a box and putting them aside. “I’m still mad at you. This is out of necessity.”

Lau shrugged, tucking her sunglasses behind the counter and settling onto a stool with perfect posture. “Would it help if I said it was for justice?”

“My dad is probably running a background check on Dermid right now,” Blago glared over her shoulder. “You know that, right?”

“It’ll be fine,” Lau waved her off. “He’s clean. More importantly,” she continued before Blago could question how Lau knew that, “there are only a few tickets left for your Ouija board party.”

“Tickets? What? How did people even find out about it? I’ve only mentioned it to a few of the regulars!”

The look Lau gave her spoke volumes. “I made a free event online and I told BlogTO about it. I also posted it on the store’s twitter account.”

“I have a twitter account?”

“No, the store does. Everything is all set up.”

“The store has a twitter account?” Blago asked again, setting down the box cutter. “Since when? I should have access to that.”

“Since you opened this place and asked for my help,” Lau replied. “What did you think that meant?”

“Contracts and stuff? Help with taxes and,” she gestured vaguely to the store, “all of this?”

Lau sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, I need you to take a break from the boxes.”

She urgently needed to finish unpacking everything and setting up for the event but Blago had been at it for three hours and her back and knees ached. Her hands smelled like cardboard and she desperately wanted to take a nap.

Lau pulled a Moleskine out of her purse and, as Blago reached the counter, flipped it open to a page of careful, neat notes. Paracelsus’ Funerary Parlour it said along the top of the page. “Is this the place in Etobicoke?” she asked.

“After talking with your dad, it didn’t take too much work to figure it out,” Lau replied. She tapped the page with her pen. She had compiled extensive notes.

“And you talked to Eve,” Blago guessed.

“And I talked to Eve,” Lau admitted.

“So, what’d you dig up?”

The answer was, unsurprisingly, a lot. Lau had a map of the grounds and details on most of the interior layout, as well as photos and a list of potential victims. “These are members of the community Eve knows were either cremated or buried there.” She pointed to the item on one of several neatly bulleted lists. “And she said the owners are salamanders, who are known for being friendly with the Tanuki.”

“Salamanders like ‘eye of newt’ salamanders?” Blago asked. “Like mythical beings salamanders, not lizards?” She had never met a salamander. Probably. She wasn’t sure, but it was rude to ask someone’s heritage.

“Don’t play dumb.” Lau rolled her eyes. “You and Eve are going to break in there tonight.”

“What?!”

Lau closed the notebook, slipped the band back into place over the cover and handed it to Blago. “Don’t lose this. Eve will pick you up at seven.”

Somehow, Blago doubted her dad would’ve been so cool about telling them about the whole situation if he’d known Blago would be breaking and entering there the next night.

But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Right?

***

Eve showed up just before seven on a sleek black motorcycle, which she pulled into the alley space beside the shop. Blago actually stepped out of the store to gawk, and Lau reluctantly followed. “That is—” Blago started.

“—ostentatious and loud,” Lau finished for her. “You know this is supposed to be a stealth mission, right? Or do you plan on calling me when you get arrested?”

Eve pulled her helmet off and brushed her long hair, tied back in a braid for once, over one shoulder. “Trust me,” she said with a smug look on her face. “It’ll be fine. I wanted something fast in case we needed to get out of there quickly ― faster than my scooter, anyway.”

“Scooter,” Lau repeated. She clearly had barely refrained from making a face. Over the years, Blago had grown intimately familiar with her vehement opinions on the topic of scooters and e-bikes. Her arguments ranged from they’re hideous and too slow for the car lanes but too fast for bike lanes to only people who lost their license drunk driving own those.

“Vespa,” Eve corrected, intent on Lau’s expression. She smirked as Lau huffed and turned away. That was her one exception. Lau fucking adored vespas.

“Nice bike!” Antonio called out. He jogged through a gap in traffic to join them. “Is this yours? I didn’t know you rode!”

Eve stroked the seat possessively. “Thanks,” she said, genuinely pleased. “I’m pretty fond of her myself. How’re you doing, Antonio? Better?”

“Not bad,” he replied. “A little better every day, thanks to Blago and Jahni and Dermid. Everyone’s been really great.”

“And Su Jin, too, eh?” Blago cut in slyly.

Instead of looking embarrassed, Antonio fairly beamed. “Yes! Su Jin is amazing.”

“Su Jin,” Eve repeated slowly. “Why do I know that name?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s a gumiho,” Blago said. “Maybe you know her family?”

Gumiho tended to live for a long, long time, so even if they had moved to Toronto recently in their history, that might have been several generations ago for most of the other people in the city. Su Jin herself was likely significantly older than Blago.

“Su Jin Kim?” Eve asked, wide-eyed. Blago had never seen her react like that before. Su Jin seemed friendly enough to her. “Why haven’t you introduced me? Why didn’t you tell me?” She opened and closed her mouth a few times and then muttered, “I’ll have to pay my respects,” to herself. “I need to meet her.”

“Later,” Lau cut in. “Don't you have somewhere to be right now?”

Blago patted down her pockets for her keys and came up empty. “Let me just grab my keys and I'm good to go.”

Lau held the keys up daintily. “These? You can leave them here. Antonio and I will look after the store while you're out.”

“Yeah,” Antonio nodded enthusiastically. “Don't worry about a thing, boss!”

Blago’s heart sunk. She bit her lip. “I’ve uh, I bought some floor cushions for the party. They’re in the storage closet. And I’ve got um, some party supplies in there, too. And—”

“We’ve got this,” Lau cut her off. “I’ve planned everything already and Antonio will do all the heavy lifting.”

“Oh cool. Okay well… good luck?” Her voice sounded fake. She needed to leave.

“One last thing,” Lau said as Blago tried to figure out how exactly she was supposed to get on the bike.

Blago turned. Maybe Lau wanted to know more about the floor cushions after all or--

Or maybe she just wanted to pull Eve in for a brief, fierce kiss. “Get Blago home safely,” she said, still practically nose to nose with Eve.

Eve grinned, cocky. “Obviously.” She pulled a second helmet out of the bike’s storage compartment and passed it over to Blago. “You ever ridden one of these before?”

“No, but how hard can it be?”

Eve laughed at her. If Blago had been smarter, she would've taken that as a sign. Instead, she waved goodbye to Felicia in the window and climbed up behind Eve on the bike.

“You're going to want to hold on,” Eve said before she pulled on her own helmet.

The reason why grew evident in short order.


	12. The Break In

By the time Eve pulled over, Blago’s hands had gone numb from the wind and from grasping frantically at Eve, her whole body tight and tense from terror. Eve drove like a maniac.

She laughed as she pulled off her helmet. “Not what you expected?” She asked with a sly grin.

“These should be illegal,” Blago swore fervently. “That can't be safe.” Blago dismounted more accidentally than purposefully, and her knees wobbled. A wave of overwhelming relief washed over her as she set her feet on the cracked asphalt of someone's suburban driveway, dizzy and wobbly in the knees. “Where are we?” she asked as she handed the helmet back over, her heart rate slowing.

Eve tucked Blago’s helmet back into the compartment but kept hold of her own as she walked up to the front door. “We’re going to need an alibi if anything goes wrong,” she said and knocked sharply.

Not ominous at all, Blago thought.

Until a few years prior, Etobicoke had been its own city. Then the provincial government had decided to amalgamate several of the smaller cities surrounding Toronto into what was now known as the mega city. No one was particularly happy about the arrangement, with residents of each area having different municipal priorities, and tensions often ran high.

People who lived out in Etobicoke or Scarborough tended to refer to people like Blago as the ‘downtown elite’, and while Blago wouldn't describe herself as elite in any way, she would admit to almost never travelling above Bloor Street, which bordered the downtown core.

The man who opened the door was _beautiful_. Not handsome, not attractive. Beautiful. There was no other way to describe his fine features and long hair; the delicate frame of him. And then he opened his mouth. “Oh, you were serious,” he said flatly, his voice deeper than she had expected. “I guess come on in, then.”

“Blago meet Jamie; Jamie, Blago,” Eve gestured between them as she set her helmet on a side table in the foyer. “Jamie is also Chimera.”

Blago immediately glanced down at her outfit and flushed. Because they had planned on breaking into a building, she'd worn a pair of Lau’s black leggings and a long sleeved black shirt and jacket— not her usual style. And even though it seemed appropriate for a break-in... 

She tried instead to focus on Jamie. If Eve was the lion head of Chimera, which one was he? She didn’t want to stereotype a guess based on his appearance.

“I’m a Lamia,” Jamie said loudly in the awkward silence of the kitchen. “You’re thinking pretty loudly.”

“I—I didn’t think Lamia were psychic.” Blago frantically tried to think very boring thoughts. Instead her brain seemed to get stuck in a loop of what little she knew about Lamia from her first year Classics class: that Lamia, a woman who had slept with Zeus, had been caught by Hera cursed to insomnia. She could remove her own eyes and became a serpent-like monster that consumed children.

“We’re not, and we don’t eat children, either,” he said with a sharp, vicious grin. He leaned close to her and gave a dramatic sniff. “I promise I won’t bite unless you ask nicely.”

When Blago reared back in alarm, he laughed and the sound came out like the clinking of fine china.

“Ignore him,” Eve said. “He's being a dick, as usual, because he can.” She had hinted at tension between the heads of Chimera before, but they had a weird energy between the two of them. How do they work, exactly? Blago wondered. Eve clearly felt comfortable enough to call on him for help, but the antagonism between them muddied things.

“She knows I was kidding.” He rolled his eyes at Eve and turned back to Blago. “I only eat other people’s energy, and only if they consent fully. Things would go very badly for me if I did otherwise.”

“Totally,” Blago responded, heart still in her throat. She made plans to look Lamia up in her books as soon as she got home.

Jamie sighed ostentatiously and leaned against the counter. “May I offer you a drink?” he asked, obviously hoping the answer would be a ‘no’.

“Oh thanks,” Blago replied. “Tap water?” The glass he handed her cooled her sweaty palms with the added bonus of giving her something to do with her hands.

“I could handle this myself, you know,” he said with a pointed look at Eve. His arms might have been thin, but Blago noticed defined muscle there when he crossed them over his chest. He had a swimmer’s build.

“Could, but haven’t so far,” Eve countered, crossing her own arms in a mirror image of Jamie. “Some of us like to stay on top of things.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows at her. “Some of us don’t have the same problems in our area of the city. Maybe you need my help. Have you told the Tanuki you’re taking a break from investigating the death of their boss in order to shut down one of their own businesses?”

Eve scowled. “They should know better than to steal from the community,” she snarled.

The two stared at each other for a long minute. Blago shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. “So what’s the plan?” she asked, having downed half the glass.

That got Eve’s attention. “We’re going to wait here for a bit and then sneak out the back.” Eve gestured to the rear of the living room, through the glass sliding doors to where Jamie’s yard hit a stretch of well-manicured greenery behind some short trees and shrubs. “Conveniently, his place backs onto the graveyard used by the funeral home.”

Jamie shrugged. “I got this place for a steal before the market spiked. None of the mundanes wanted to live next to a graveyard.”

“Well they’d have to hold their breath all the time,” Eve scoffed.

“And we couldn’t have that, now, could we?” Jamie agreed slyly before becoming more serious. “I’ll cover for you, and you’ll take care of things over there.”

“Clean up your messes, you mean,” Eve corrected.

Jamie narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t have to be your alibi.”

“Don’t test me.”

By the look of things, they could have kept going indefinitely, but the sun had begun to sink below the horizon, and Blago’s mind kept circling back to the store and preparations for the event. “So are we doing this, or…?”

Eve and Jamie stared at each other a little longer before Jamie broke eye contact.

“Yeah,” Eve replied. She finally turned to Blago with a satisfied smile. “Let’s do this.”

***

While the witch was away they crept close to the shop, but both the werewolf and the seer were inside. It was too dangerous. The hunger hissed, furious, and turned quickly on the nearest prey.

It was a fat, pleasing kill. Appropriately symbolic, for it had only the barest hint of magic inside it. Just enough to whet the hunger’s appetite.

They left it behind, an ostentatious gift for her to find on her return.

***

On TV, people usually had a plan before they broke in somewhere. Blago suspected Eve didn’t have a plan. Not that it seemed to stop her. She followed along as Eve walked the shrub line, across the field and behind rows of headstones towards a low structure at the other end of the property.

“So why are you so eager to head back?” Eve asked casually, as if they weren’t on their way to commit a crime. “You don’t trust Lau to train the werewolf or something?”

Blago sighed and figured the conversation might distract her. “Lau will do a great job,” she said with conviction. “The best job.”

“But?”

Blago hesitated. “But I had already googled a bunch of stuff about how to train someone on their first day. Being a good manager,” Blago muttered. Being disappointed about it didn’t make sense. She knew for a fact that Lau naturally excelled at that kind of thing, and had experience to boot. But Blago had been excited to try it out herself, and now she wouldn’t get the chance.

Eve stayed quiet for a moment. “I get it,” she said finally. “Did you tell her you were excited to train him, though?”

“No,” Blago huffed. “So it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. You should tell her,” Eve said firmly.

They paused behind a large monument as Eve scanned the graveyard for any stray visitors. “I don’t want to upset her,” Blago added after a minute.

Eve stopped and looked at her, her expression gentler than Blago had ever seen it. “Look, it’s none of my business, but… she cares about you, a lot. That’s obvious to anyone. It would probably hurt her more to find out you felt this way and never said anything.”

Blago chewed on her lip. “Maybe.”

“No maybes about it,” Eve said firmly. “You’re a business owner. No one will ever respect you if you don’t take charge, take responsibility” She paused and seemed to think something over for a moment. “I used to have this boss. He told me I was good at what I did, but he never let me try anything new. By the time I left that job he had me convinced I wasn’t good for much of anything and would never be able to do anything more than pushing papers. I don’t know Lau that well yet, but I know this: she wouldn’t want to make you feel the way he made me feel. Small.”

 _Small_ was exactly how Blago had felt. Her eyes stung.

“So do me a favour. Tell her. Otherwise, it’s not good for either of you.” Apparently discomfited by the unexpected heart to heart, Eve flexed her hands until they shifted into the golden claws Blago was quickly becoming familiar with. “Now come on. Let’s get this over with.”

They reached the back of the building and stood, awkwardly.

Blago pulled Lau’s notebook out of her pocket and flipped over to her neatly drawn diagram of the facility. At the far end of the building, closer to the road, was the main entrance ― a showroom of caskets and urns, a room for services and wakes; the front office.

At the back, the mortician’s office, facilities, and crematorium filled the rest of the space. Blago had negative interest in investigating the dumpster beside the back door. Instead she tried the handle of the door, but found it locked tight from the inside.

Eve waved her aside, gripped the handle tight and gave it one good, solid yank. It opened with a creaking groan.

They both froze, silent. Blago’s heart pounded as she strained to catch the sound of anyone who might come to investigate the noise, but there was nothing. The building stayed eerily quiet. After a long, tense minute, Eve gestured her forward and they crept inside.

Just like Lau’s diagram indicated, they’d ended up in the mortuary. In some ways, it didn’t look too different from morgues on TV crime shows. But she could see little signs — like a full makeup display, airbrushes for foundation — that this was a very different kind of house of death.

In addition to what Blago guessed to be a cold storage room for bodies and an array of openly displayed tools, they found several storage cabinets and chests of small, oddly-sized drawers. Blago immediately began to open individual drawers. She started at the top left and worked her way across in rows in hopes of finding something – stolen jewellery, body parts in specimen jars, maybe. Mostly she found office supplies and tools she didn’t know how to use.

Eve seemed to have no luck with the other drawers, either, so Blago skipped down to the bottom row. She needed to kneel on the floor to get to them, but when she did? “Jackpot,” Blago whispered.

The bottom row was filled completely with small glass jars like the ones Blago used for her spell ingredients, some filled with dark ash or powder, some with shards and splinters of bone or dried skin or hair. Most interesting were the mason jars filled with fluids she didn’t want to identify, sealed tight. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo to send to Lau. Pretty sure none of this is supposed to be here.

Eve leaned down over Blago’s shoulder to take a closer look and grimaced.

So take care of it, Lau replied. I’m busy. The ping of her incoming text rang loud in the open, tiled space and Blago jerked backwards into Eve, startled.

“You didn’t put your phone on vibrate?” Eve hissed as she pushed back and they both regained their balance.

“I forgot!” Blago hissed back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Eve and Blago looked up together and spotted, too late, the man in the doorway, hands braced on either side of the frame. Blago shivered. He emanated an immediate, visceral coldness: blond haired with ice-blue eyes and a pallid complexion. “I said, what do you think you’re doing?”

Trouble, and right on time.

Eve stood up sharply, flexed her hands at her sides to display her claws. “I’m Chimera, and your Tanuki bosses know better. I’m shutting this place down.” She sounded so confident, so self-assured. Blago stared up at her from where she knelt on the floor of the mortuary and finally got it. So this is what Lau sees in her.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” the guy replied, and Blago could see the texture of his skin shift; a pale star-like pattern spread across his cheeks and down his neck to his forearms. Blago slowly clambered to her feet and unconsciously took a half-step forward to get a better look.

“I’m telling you to back down,” Eve repeated. “The Tanuki are already on my shit list. Take my word for it when I tell you that you don’t want to join them.”

The guy dropped his hands from the door jamb and stalked forward across the room. It seemed clear that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Blago had zero tolerance for men like that, and by the way Eve’s claws lengthened to deadly sharp points, her face shifting into a more leonine grimace, she agreed.

If anyone asked later, Blago could confirm he threw the first punch. But Eve was quick. She dodged sharply to the side and threw back just as hard.

The strange thing was, he let her hit him. He didn’t even try to block the blow. Eve’s fist made contact with less of the smack of skin on skin and more the dull, booming thud of someone hitting a door. She jerked her fist back with a surprised hiss, her knuckles white instead of the red Blago expected. Frost evaporated off the broken skin.

“What the fuck,” Eve spat. She shook her fist out and clutched it close to her chest.

“Want to try it again?” he asked smugly.

“Sure do, Tweedledum.” Eve squared up, fists high in front of her face and lunged forward double-time; she hit him twice more to the same effect. With each blow her skin burnt white.

The sound alone made Blago wince. She kept her eyes on the two of them but fumbled blindly behind her for the open drawer. Surely something in there could help Eve out.

“You’re a Salamander,” Eve growled, shaking out both hands.

“That’s right,” he replied, his jaw tilted so he could look down on her despite her heeled boots. “Ready to give up?”

Blago knew very little about Salamanders, and some of the information she had found had conflicted or seemed impossible. It was probably wrong to be excited to learn a bit about them first-hand, but. Well, Blago could be both worried and excited. She contained multitudes. Unfortunately not multitudes of fighting skills, or magical supplies.

The drawer had been well-organized, but she couldn’t accurately identify anything without opening every container, and she didn’t have the time to look closely.

Eve barked out a laugh and swiped at his face. Mid-swing she shifted her fingers to those golden-pointed claws and took him by surprise with a slice fast across the cheek and down his sharp-angled jaw. The sharp line cut right through the stars patterned across his skin, and his blood welled up milky white where Blago had expected red.

“Do you even know who you’re fighting?” she taunted. “I told you I was Chimera. I’m just getting started.” Her aura flared up golden and bright and with the weight of ancients around her. Her sharp-toothed grin had a feral slant.

That changed the tone completely. The Salamander came at her fast and hard. He was big, and just a hair slower than Eve, balanced lightly on the balls of her feet. Each heavy swing of his fists left a chill in the air, but Eve dodged most of them neatly.

She pressed her advantage with a series of deep gouges to his face, his bare arms, and finally the meat of his stomach as she forced him back. Their progress across the room could have been measured in blows and half-steps that skidded on the tile floor until he finally hit the wall.

With a victorious, vicious hiss Eve pressed her claws, slow and deliberate, into the fragile skin over his jugular.

He might have been taller than her but it immediately became clear who exactly had the upper hand.

“Okay, okay,” he whined, head tilted back as far as the wall allowed in an attempt to gain distance from her claws, “I give!”

Slowly, Eve took a step back, keeping a wary eye on him. “I’ll give you a choice,” she said slowly, deliberately. “Blago, get over here and help me restrain him.”

If Eve thought they were safe, Blago would just have to trust her. She made her way around the room, back to the drawer of illicit magical supplies, and now that she didn’t need to watch her back, took a moment to rifle through it. Soon enough she found what she was looking for ― Himalayan salt, powdered althea root, and dried sea anemone.

“Um,” she paused and looked at Eve, cautiously. “Do you have a condom?”

“Do I —what?” Eve startled and glanced back at Blago over her shoulder. “You know I’m a lesbian, right?”

“Yeah, but you still might use one for like, dental dams? Or if you have one of those, that’ll do, too.”

Eve rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I like to be prepared,” she muttered and returned her focus to the Salamander. “Inside jacket pocket.”

Blago set the rest of the supplies down on the mortician’s washing table and made her way apprehensively over to Eve and their guest. Even with the fight over the air around him was chill and dry. It raised goose flesh all along Blago’s arms.

Wary, she reached gingerly inside Eve’s jacket and found at least two dental dams tucked into the inside pocket. Blago took one and set it with the rest of the supplies, then grabbed a kidney bowl and started to measure out what she needed.

“What’s the choice?” He had finally caught his breath. “Cake or death?”

Eve bared her teeth, still completed shifted, still limned brightly along the edges of her limbs and throughout her tightly coiled hair. “I’m not much of a cake person, myself. No, nothing so mainstream,” she said. “No matter what, you’re going to tell me everything about everyone involved here. Which branch of the Tanuki, names, dates — every detail you know.”

“Involved in what?”

The words barely escaped his mouth before Eve swiped across his chest. His shirt hung in tatters and the skin over his heart split open to leak cold white blood, just like the other wounds.

“The grave robbing, the thefts, the body parts that go ‘missing’ from cremated bodies.” She grinned sharply as his eyes widened. “You think the head of Chimera comes out to some dinky mortuary in the suburbs for no reason?” she continued. “We know all about this operation. All I want is confirmation.”

He swallowed. “And then what?”

“And then,” she said casually as she drew one sharp, gleaming claw down the side of his neck, “you get to choose. You can face your peers and whatever justice the community decides is appropriate, or you can go to mundy jail for robbing corpses. Up to you.”

Blago was really, really not comfortable with that offer, but she also didn’t particularly want Eve’s attention on her. She had already broken into a mortuary and witnessed an assault, and now what sounded like some kind of mob-style justice meted out by Chimera. She had no idea if that constituted business as usual or Eve going rogue. She had been pretty sure magical crimes got reviewed by a group of beings and creatures appointed by the community, not the rough justice Eve implied he had in store. That was the impression Elżbeta had given her, anyway.

Who had she gotten into business with, exactly?

“Mundy jail,” the guy mumbled. “It’s safer.”

“Yeah, I thought you might see it my way.” Eve tilted her chin up, visibly smug, fierce, and frankly terrifying. Blago, with heavy limbs and her heart still rabbiting in her chest, was ready for the night to be over. “How’s that restraint coming?” she said over her shoulder to Blago.

“Almost done,” Blago responded. The paste she had mixed together in the kidney dish was a pukey shade of grey-yellow and had already started to dry. She wiped her hands down on a clean rag and ripped open the dental dam packet so she could spread it out on the industrial metal of the washing table.

“What’s the dental dam for, anyway?” Eve asked, not taking her hand off the Salamander’s neck.

Blago bit her lip and carefully placed her paste in the centre of it, pulled the edges up into a sachet and tied them off with a strong knot. “Normally a barrier spell requires a piece of an old shield, but we don’t want this to last too long, and I didn’t exactly bring any shield shavings with me, so,” she held up the dental dam full of paste. “Ta da? A dental dam is a sort of shield, and it should have a pretty limited life-span, magically speaking, since it’s, you know. Disposable.”

Both Eve and the Salamander looked at her like she was a complete freak. “I’m both impressed and astounded at the way your brain works,” Eve said finally.

Yeah. Blago got that a lot.

***

They left the mortuary with a list of names and details added to Lau’s notebook, along with two boxes of illicit materials. They left the Salamander, who had just called in to report himself on his own cell phone, cornered next to the cold storage room by a condom full of grey-yellow goop.

Yeah, that would be fun to explain that one to the police. Blago didn’t envy him.

She and Eve crept along the edges of the cemetery and back into Jamie’s house, toeing their shoes off in the kitchen and heading into the living room, where he had a Toronto Football Club match on the TV and appeared to be steadily working his way through a bottle of wine. “So?” he asked.

“So budge over.” Eve threw herself down next to him on the couch. “We need to at least finish the match before we leave. For our alibis,” she added, eyes already glued to the screen.

If Blago hadn’t seen her slice and dice a Salamander within the last hour she would have easily thought Eve mostly harmless, at least outside of a business setting.

“I want details,” Jamie insisted, but he did move over to give her more space.

Blago shifted from foot to foot for a moment before she gingerly squeezed into the last seat. It wasn’t as though she knew how to drive a motorcycle to get herself home. Might as well make the best of it.

“At half-time,” Eve replied, already intent on the TV, muttering, “we better destroy the Montreal Impact.”

Jamie actually set his wine glass down to give her a fist bump.

Blago kept quiet.

***

Blago had never been a sports fan, but she still didn’t think it made sense for a game to end in a tie. “Isn’t that like, the opposite of how sports work?” she asked when they had parked in the alley beside the shop, finally removing their stifling helmets. “I’m pretty sure one side is supposed to win.”

“Not in football,” Eve snorted. Like most of the soccer fans Blago had met, she used the wider international name for the sport, not the American one.

Blago wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed immediately, but a string of warm lights had been strung around the front window display, giving it a cheery and inviting glow. They framed an artfully arranged Ouija board and planchette display. The whole thing looked significantly better than Blago’s standard, haphazard ‘place stuff so it faces the street’ approach.

“This looks nice.” Eve pushed past her and inside the shop with a light jingle of the bell.

Blago followed, and inside found the same story. All of the inventory had been put neatly away, the shelves organized, and the entire shop decorated for the Ouija board party the next evening.

Blago couldn’t see a single floor cushion. Instead, several folding chairs and simple tables had been placed throughout the space in neat groupings.

“Wow,” Eve drawled. “You guys did a great job on this!”

Antonio lay sprawled on the floor, petting Felicia in long, slow strokes down her flank. Noticing Blago’s arrival, Felicia sat up and meowed loudly in rising and falling tones, as if she needed to tell Blago about her evening and scold her late return.

“Hi cutie,” Blago crouched down to scratch her under the chin. “This place looks great,” she said around a lump in her throat, and she meant it. “You did an amazing job, Antonio.”

Antonio grinned bashfully and scrubbed at his hair. “Thanks. I’m going to make sure you don’t regret hiring me.”

“I have no doubt,” Blago agreed.

“Oh,” he paused in petting Felicia. “I found a dead raccoon out back? It’s in your green waste bin.”

Blago grimaced. “I hope there’s not another distemper outbreak.” The virus presented similarly to rabies and a few summers prior the city had been awash in strange raccoon behaviour and dead bodies. It had not a good time for anyone.

“Where’s Lau?” she asked, changing the subject. She briefly made eye contact with Eve and remembered their conversation on the way to the mortuary. She was right, Blago knew, but it also wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted to discuss in front of Antonio or Eve.

“Right here,” she replied, stepping from behind a shelf. “Did you get it done?”

Eve nodded. “We had a run in, but thanks to Blago he’s probably confessing everything to the police right now. She made a barrier to hold him temporarily.”

“After you basically threatened him with mob justice!” Blago blurted out. Between Eve and Jaime’s excitement over the game, and Blago’s own terror at the ride home, she’d half forgotten.

Eve shrugged. “We decide as a community,” she said, almost too calmly. “But in this case, they also broke mundane laws. That’s outside our purview. You’re a cop’s daughter, right? I thought you of all people would understand.”

At her feet, Felicia wound in and around Blago’s legs, meowing and looking up at her until Blago picked her up and cuddled her close to her chest. In return, she received a series of affectionate head-butts to the chin and jaw. “I guess,” she muttered finally, mostly to Felicia. “I don’t know how I feel about this yet.”

“That’s fine,” Eve replied, wholly unconcerned. “Take your time ― as long as it doesn’t impact your investigation,” she clarified. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh,” Blago groaned. “It’s going ugh.” She meandered over to the nearest chair and flopped into it, mentally and physically exhausted all at once. “No offence, but can we do this later? All I want is to go to bed.” Felicia interjected with a sharp meow. “Feed Felicia and go to bed,” she corrected.

Lau stepped neatly around Antonio and held the door open. “She’s not good when she’s sleepy. Trust me. It’s for the best we all leave now.”

It didn’t take her long to sweep Antonio and Eve out of the shop, flick the lights off, and close the door behind them. Blago waved limply and then sat in the dark and quiet for several long minutes, the only sounds the murmur of traffic outside and Felicia’s shallow breaths syncing up with her own.

Eventually, she got up to lock the door and slowly climbed the stairs to her apartment, tired, drained, and empty. She fed Felicia, crawled under her duvet with a sigh, and fell asleep to the sound of crunching cat food.


	13. The Ouija Board Spirit

The day of the Ouija board party was busy. People popped in and out of the shop all day to RSVP, or to say they couldn’t come tonight but wanted to stop in anyway, or just to browse.

On a normal day, it could be hard to tell how many regulars she had. If Blago hadn't seen them recently she tended to lose track, but the number seemed a lot higher than she estimated ― a mix of mundanes enrolled in illusionist classes, but also nymphs and selkies and furies, all excited for the event whether they could attend or not. Everything added up to exactly the excuse she needed to put off talking to Lau.

While Blago served customers, Lau spent the day directing Antonio to rearrange the store to fit all of the guests and different Ouija boards they would need. Blago found herself jiggling her leg up and down, tapping the counter, and marching in place as the day went on.

“Go clean up the back room,” Lau huffed finally. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

Blago sighed. “I might drive myself crazy if I stay out here.”

Antonio gave her a lop-sided smile. “We got this! Don’t worry.”

Between his additional strength and Lau’s military-precision planning, they probably did. She left them to it and headed to the back.

It had been more than a week, and Blago had been in and out of the room multiple times, but the little charms and spells she made the day of their visit to the morgue still sat on the floor, unlabelled.

Felicia wound her way between Blago’s feet and into the room, ignoring the objects on the floor in favour of knocking another book off the shelf, something she’d been doing it a lot.

Blago scooped her up into her arms and let Felicia climb onto her shoulders before crouching to grab the book off the floor. “Are you always going to do this? Is it only going to get worse when you get bigger?” she asked.

Felicia rubbed her cheek along Blago’s jaw and started up a gentle purr.

That sounded like a yes.

Instead of re-shelving the book though, Blago dropped down onto one of the beaten-up chairs and ran her fingers over the old fabric cover. It hadn’t been labelled with a title, but when she flipped it open the pages were full of recipes for charms and spells.

“Where were you when I was making stuff the other week?” she asked it, but really, it was her own fault. She hadn’t gotten around to reading even half of the books which had found her. 

_Silent Slumber_ one page read. _For a deep, dreamless sleep._ The picture below featured an old-fashioned medicine bottle with a cork stopper, full of an inky black goo. Blago glanced over at the jars of black goo against the wall and then back to the ingredient list and, yeah. That matched.

“Okay, maybe you should always knock books off shelves,” she told Felicia and rewarded her with a scratch under the chin. Felicia’s purr ratcheted up a level. “You think the other two are in here? Guess it’s worth a shot,” she mumbled to herself.

The powdered roots and pollen she had folded into cheesecloth were a little harder to find in the book, but they showed up too under _Nuisance Negated_. The little charms were supposed to help prevent ill intentions or get rid of pests like bugs and mice. It wasn’t entirely clear from the description. Maybe both?

The real question was — would they work on raccoons?

The last one she found at the very back of the book, written in a cramped, spiky hand and untitled. Something about the way it had been written came off as furtive, and Blago shivered again even though the store was warm with summer air. _For building a bridge where there is none; use when channeling_ , it read. And beneath that: _Once a door has been opened, it cannot be closed. To be used with great caution_.

There again at her shoulder she felt the pressure of that phantom hand, and she snapped the book closed. “I’ll just label the first two and keep the last one back here,” she said to Felicia. “Sound good to you?”

Felicia, being a cat, did not seem to have a strong opinion on the matter either way. Blago dug out some blank labels and a sharpie, labelling the glass jars as Sleeping Schmear. That sounded more accurate than silent slumber, she figured, since you had to smear it on your forehead if you wanted a nice, dreamless sleep.

For the little sachets, she tied on small cardstock tags and labelled them Pest Prevention figuring it would cover her bases.

It didn’t take long for her to set those out on the shelves in the back half of the store and soon Blago was left to stare at the unsettling little boxes.

“We’ll put you in the back corner,” she decided, leaning down to let Felicia hop onto her empty chair. The faster she got it done the better. They gave her the heebie-jeebies. She jumbled all of them into her arms to try and get them out of the way in one trip.

Lau probably would have told her it was a dumb idea from the get-go, if she’d been there to see it instead of up front with Antonio. But she wasn’t, and so Blago managed to shove most of them onto the shelf no problem, but fumbled the last one and spilled dung powder and flower petals all over herself.

“Oh, gross,” Blago muttered, frozen awkwardly.

The good news was that almost none of it had landed on the floor. The bad news was the powder had wound up all over her hands, her shirt, her shorts, and her legs. And yeah, it still smelled. Her skin tingled and a shiver ran down Blago’s spine. She might have been alone in the back room except for Felicia, but it sure didn’t feel that way.

“Are you almost done back here?” Lau called out. She poked her head into the room and wrinkled her nose when she got a good look at Blago. “You stink. How did you--? No, I probably don’t want to know.”

“I’m going to go change. And maybe shower,” Blago sighed.

Lau held one delicate hand under her nose. “Definitely shower,” she agreed and slipped back to the front.

Felicia, at least, seemed unbothered. Blago huffed and tossed the now empty box into the bin in the corner of the room before she headed upstairs.

***

The day flew by. Blago barely remembered eating before the store steadily filled with people and Lau had delivered a brief speech welcoming them to the event. Blago tried to hide behind the counter, overwhelmed and suddenly unsure of exactly what she should be doing, but there was no hiding from Lau.

“Come on.” She grabbed Blago by the elbow and pulled her out from behind the counter. “You have to get them started.”

“Do I?” Blago whined.

The look Lau gave her said yes and don’t argue with me. She marched Blago over to a group of mundanes gathered around one of the totally non-magical Ouija boards. “Have you guys met Blago?” Lau asked brightly. “She’s a real expert with these, if you want some help getting started.”

There was a general assent, and Blago found a spot to join the circle.

“There are different ways to use an Ouija board, but it’s a good idea to pick someone to be the medium ― basically to ask the questions of whichever spirit we contact.” That got her some awkward laughter, so Blago shrugged. “I can do it the first time. That might help.” She settled in to sit more comfortably and placed her index finger on the planchette. “When we all put our fingers on the planchette, we each transfer a little bit of our energy into it. That’s how we form a connection to the spirit world.”

Or, it was how they _would_ , if she had given them anything real, or if any of them had even an ounce of magic in them. But Blago definitely didn’t want any mundanes accidentally making contact with something they couldn’t understand. There was a real danger there for the uninitiated. The magical beings in the room had built-in protection, but normal folks who walked in off the street? Not so much.

Thankfully, it didn’t take much for most of the group to place their fingers delicately on the planchette.

“Great. Now we should all focus. Let’s start by asking if there’s anyone listening.” Blago took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Spirits, hear us,” she intoned, eyes half-lidded, “we seek a representative to speak with us. Is there anybody there?”

For a few long seconds the planchette sat still, then it slowly slid up to yes. That earned her a little more nervous giggling, and Blago bit her lip in an attempt not to smile before she asked, “Can you tell us your name, spirit?”

The planchette slid again slowly but jerkily across the board and spelled out _LIZZIE_. “Lizzie,” Blago repeated, with a glance around the circle. The group focused finally and grew less agitated. “It’s nice to meet you, Lizzie.”

When mundanes used an Ouija board ― especially a mass-produced one, like the one in that circle ― there was no real magic. The twitches of fingers and subconscious or conscious pushing or pulling made words form. Chances were, Blago knew, someone in the group had been reading _Pride & Prejudice_ recently, or they had a friend or relative named Elizabeth, or maybe they just liked the name. Hell, Blago’s mom had been named Elizabeth. But if even one person in the circle had magic in them, whether they knew it or not? Then something real could come through.

“Anyone got a question they want answered?” Blago asked the group. “I’d start general, and be polite. Lizzie’s our guest.”

A few couples elbowed each other with their free arms before a bro ― Blago couldn’t describe him in any way but aggressively heterosexual based on his cargo shorts and pastel polo shirt― stepped up, metaphorically speaking. “Will my girlfriend become a lesbian?”

Half the circle stared at him and Blago couldn’t help but blurt out, “Are you serious? It’s um,” she paused, “really not clear why you’re asking this question. Anyone else?” she asked desperately.

“Are you dead?” one woman asked nervously. “I want to know if we’re talking to a ghost.”

“Great question,” Blago replied with relief. “Lizzie, are you dead?”

The planchette moved haltingly across the board. _Are you?_

Likely someone in the circle had decided to mess with everyone else. Probably. Blago shrugged. “Fair question, Lizzie. As far as we know, we’re all alive…” That got people to loosen up a little. She ran them through several more questions, some funny and some a little dark.

Blago began to wrap it up so they could start a new session on their own when it happened.

“So the last thing we should do is thank Lizzie for her time and then move the planchette to ‘goodbye’ in order to break the connection,” she said. Before she could thank the spirit though, the planchette jerked again. “That’s weird.”

They hadn’t asked anything, and she could tell their fingers perched light on the planchette. Faster than it had all night, the planchette spelled out _Watch your back, Blago._

Blago abruptly jerked the planchette to goodbye and let go. “Okay, I think you’re good to go on your own!” she stuttered and scrambled to her feet. “Have fun!”

Shoulders hunched, she glanced quickly behind her, but saw only the crowd of customers and guests. Jahni, David, Dermid and Su Jin stood deep in discussion at a table not that far from hers. Someone messing with her, but knowing that didn’t stop the shiver down her spine. She scooped Felicia up off the counter and moved over to a less mundane board, watching as group of Dirawong tried to use the board as a long-distance call to relatives back in Australia.

***

It took her awhile to calm down, but eventually Blago got back to making the rounds. She checked in on different sessions, saying hi to as many regulars as possible. With Antonio on the cash she didn’t have to split her time between helping people find something and cashing them out.

Her regular group of seniors had shown up partly for the event, partly to stock up on remedies for rheumatism and arthritis, and partly to gossip. Elżbeta had her usual crowd of friends from the potluck club, mostly older women and a handful of men who had lived in the area for longer than Blago had been alive.

Sure enough, once she spotted Elżbeta, she found the rest of the group easily. Or, most of it, anyway. She couldn’t see Harold, but the last time they’d spoken, she remembered Elżbeta had mentioned he had been depressed since the desecration of his friend’s grave.

Blago started to work her way through the crowd. Over the din of conversation and murmured questions, the bells over the door chimed softly, announcing another new arrival or someone leaving, along with a gust of cool air ― unusual for a muggy summer night in Toronto.

“Elżbeta, Leija! I’m so glad you could make it,” Blago said once she’d finally found a path to squeeze through. “Are you having a good time?”

Elżbeta and Leija both looked harmless and sweet, a little out of place since most of the other guests were well under thirty. “Yes, thank you, Blago dear,” Elżbeta answered. “Where’s that familiar of yours? We wanted to say hello.”

“Familiar?” Blago repeated, but stopped at another chill gust of air along her neck, and shivered. “Sorry, let me check the door, I’ll be right back.” She squeezed around a few groups to the front of the store. When she got there, though she found the door shut tight and the air outside lay heavy and warm, balmy from the lake. Strange, but Blago guessed the extra heat from so many bodies inside the store had thrown her gauge off.

She tested the catch a few times to be sure it would close properly before she gave up and headed back inside. She even swung by the counter to rescue Felicia from the attentions of people checking out. Felicia made a small sound of distress, scrambling up onto her shoulder, all pinprick claws which were sure to leave scratches. Whatever made her happy, Blago figured.

Something about having a small black kitten on her shoulder made it easier to cut through the crowd and back over to Elżbeta and Leija. “Is this her?” Leija offered Felicia her index finger, curved to be non-threatening, and Felicia sniffed at it delicately.

“Felicia, meet Leija and Elżbeta,” Blago introduced them as Elżbeta also proffered a finger for sniffing. “Dermid found her in the alley beside his shop.”

That got their attention. “Dermid?” Leija asked, far too interested, and, unfortunately for Blago, Lau chose that moment to join them.

“Blago’s hot vet across the street,” she interjected. “Actually, I think he’s here, tonight. Did you know he helped set Eve’s ankle while she was partially transformed?”

“A vet?” Elżbeta asked sceptically.

“Is he handsome?” Leija asked and then squirmed away from Elżbeta’s pointed elbow. “It’s an important question! What’s his hair like?”

Lau smirked. “You can judge for yourself ― that’s him over there,” she replied and pointed out Dermid through the crowd. He stood at the cash with a collection of some of her magical items. Apparently he really had taken an interest in her world. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that without magic, the pieces he had on the counter probably wouldn’t do anything for him, though. He looked so earnestly excited about them.

“Hm,” Leija tilted her head. “There’s something about him.”

“I know, right?” Blago grinned. She still had anxiety about Dermid returning her interest, but saw nothing wrong with showing him off a bit for two of her favourite women. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask ― how’s Harold?” Lau asked.

“Did Eve let you know we took care of the graveyard issue?” Blago turned back to her friends. She had meant to call Elżbeta and let her know directly, but so much had happened in a short span of time.

Leija frowned. “No, he’s still laying low. We managed to get him out to our last potluck, but haven’t seen him since.”

“He might just need more time.” Lau shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll turn up. Are you enjoying the event?”

Elżbeta lit up. “Yes! I think we might even have found some fresh blood for the potluck group tonight!”

“Phrasing,” Leija said mildly.

“New members?”

“Better,” Leija agreed with a smile. “But I’m sure Lau didn’t come over only to say hello to us. Let’s leave them to talk,” she added, gently tugging Elżbeta back into the crowd.

Lau gestured Blago towards the store room, away from the rest of the event. “How are you holding up?” she asked once they made it safely out of sight. “I know you’re not keen on large crowds.”

Blago scrubbed a hand through her hair. “Fine?” She didn’t mean for it to come out as a question. “I mean, fine. It’s ―a lot, but I’m handling it. Why?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay and not getting overwhelmed.” Lau tilted her head assessingly. “And this way we can both escape for a few minutes.”

The store room muffled all the din to a low rumble and Blago relaxed down onto a crate against one wall, tugging Felicia down off her shoulder and into her lap. She took a deep breath.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lau replied nonchalantly.

She let them stay there for five whole minutes before they went back out into the party.

***

All in all, the event turned out to be a huge success. Blago sold plenty of planchettes, boards, and other magical and non-magical supplies. The next morning she had only run through some of the numbers, but even far from done, it looked like they had already beat the same month in the previous year. Not bad for one night’s work. Making similar events a regular thing seemed like a very good idea. Lau would be pleased.

Blago had started a list of what else they could do when her phone rang. “Hey, dad, what’s up?”

“So, turns out, not long after I told you about a certain funeral home something funny happened,” he said instead of hello. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“Umm, I have an alibi?”

“That shouldn’t be a question, Blago!”

Blago winced. “Okay, I definitely have an alibi. And,” she pushed on, “I already told you the community handles this kind of thing ourselves!”

“Handles what kind of thing?” he asked.

She sighed and pushed the receipt box away from herself. “Do you want to have lunch?”

***

The Senator Restaurant was a long, thin diner just east of Yonge-Dundas Square, Toronto’s equivalent of Times Square. Almost everything on the menu had been farmed locally, and the place was an institution. It hadn’t changed much since the 20s, and they served a mean brunch. So, obviously, both Blago and her dad loved it.

Blago managed to snag a narrow booth at the back while she waited for her dad to arrive, flipping through the menu even though she knew she would wind up ordering the same thing as always. By the time her dad slid into the booth she had reorganized all the jam packets by flavour.

“When I said maybe you should date someone in law enforcement, I didn’t mean you should become a vigilante,” he said as an opener, clasping her hand tightly between both of his and looking her over carefully as if checking for visible injuries.

“That’s basically all I’ve been doing this summer,” she said blankly. “Vigilante-private investigator-crime-fighting-magic stuff.”

All the air seemed to go out of him and he leaned back against the worn vinyl seat. “I worry about you,” he said after a moment. “You’re all I have left, you know.”

“I’ll be okay,” she said. “Lau and Eve are looking out for me.”

“And Dermid?” he asked slyly.

She gave him a flat look. “Do you want to hear about my vigilante justice or not?”

“I’m all ears.” He composed himself into the picture of innocence.

She filled him in on her and Eve’s adventure to the suburbs, liberally sprinkled with the words ‘allegedly’ and ‘hypothetically’. He had taught her well.

“Well, that explains the sudden confession. Maybe I should tell you things more often,” he mused. “But next time, just ask me outright.”

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, half-heartedly picking at her fries. She didn’t want to tell him about the other side of things ― the mob justice mentality Eve seemed fine espousing. It would only worry him or upset him the way it upset her. “Got any weird stories?”

Blago’s dad took delight in sharing weird things the guys on the force had come across, and this was no exception. He fairly lit up, leaning forward and rolling his eyes. “Do I! You heard the mayor declared war on raccoons, right?”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, yeah, I heard,” she agreed dryly. Toronto had an international reputation for its more tenacious than average raccoons who, regardless of any innovation the government threw at them, found ways to unlock the green composting bins people put out every week.

“So right after he gives his press conference, we start getting calls for all sorts of raccoon crimes.”

“Raccoon crimes,” Blago repeated sceptically.

“No joke,” he continued. “I don’t know if they heard him or if people are trolling us now, but there’s a whole wave of them. Raccoons blocking cars and traffic, raccoons climbing construction cranes, raccoons dropping out of the ceiling in a Timmies, raccoons stealing art supplies from a classroom. It won’t stop! We even had to bring the fire guys in because of a baby raccoon trapped on a ledge.”

“Like a kitten up a tree,” Blago delighted.

“Speaking of kittens,” he added in what he probably thinks is a sly tone, “Dermid is a vet, right? And you have a kitten…” he trailed off and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tempted to drop her forehead to the table, Blago managed to restrain herself. “He's the one who found her. Yes, he's her vet and no, we’re not dating and I don’t want to talk about it,” she said all in one breath. “Don’t make it weird.”

Her dad practically pouted. “I’m just saying, there could be something there!”

“But there isn’t,” she repeated firmly, trying to channel the confidence of Lau or Eve before she changed the topic. “Have you been called out to any of these raccoon incidents?”

“Oh man, did I tell you about the student house in the annex?”

He had several stories in the same vein, thankfully, and that took care of the rest of their lunch together.


	14. The Gumiho

Toronto took Pride Month as seriously as the biggest holidays, especially along Yonge Street where the parade route would run over the weekend. The Prime Minister would march in the parade again, and each year the spectacle wound the city up. The frantic month of celebrations culminated in the end of June and beginning of July when Canada Day and the Pride parade fell one week apart.

What had once been a three-day affair now spanned a full calendar month of events, parties, political rallies, concerts and speaking engagements. Rainbow and Canadian flags flew along most people’s balconies or hung in their windows. City officials closed Church Street to vehicles, and it seemed like every bar and restaurant downtown hosted back to back parties.

Blago had to step up her game, the shop included. Since she had Antonio on hand, she roped him into building two new window displays: one of mundane magic tricks, the other of a variety of charms Blago had assembled in her new-found free time, both arranged by colour.

“Hey, boss, we’re going to need more blue charms soon.” Antonio popped his head into the back room. Blago and Felicia sat surrounded by powders, herbs, bits of coloured ribbon and little pastel mesh bags from the dollar store. What most people used for wedding or bridal shower trinkets, Blago used to beautify her charms and poultices.

“Again?”

Antonio shrugged. “I think they like the colour more than the purpose. You could probably put almost anything in them and they’d sell.”

“Okay.” Blago sighed and stretched out her back with a twist. “I’ll focus on blue this afternoon, maybe mix up the contents a bit. Thanks for letting me know.”

He shuffled a little and then asked, somewhat nervously, “Is it okay to have Su Jin back here for lunch?”

“Of course! Any time,” she said. “I can probably clear some space?” He gestured to the floor, covered in materials for charms, and Felicia who had made herself a nest of ribbons where she pressed warm against Blago’s thigh.

“We’ll be okay! And then, uh, Jahni said he has some stuff to show you later.”

“Okay?” Blago wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He shifted his weight from side to side briefly. “Not bad! I think it’s good,” he said slowly, “but Jahni is sometimes.... I don’t know. Weird, I guess.” he hurried to add. “Just, you know.”

“Yeah,” Blago agreed. “I think I do.” The longer she knew Jahni, the more he reminded her of Lau ― exceptionally competent, highly selective, and capable of rubbing some people the wrong way. “Come get me when Su Jin gets here and I’ll take over out front, give you some alone time,” she grinned.

Antonio blushed easily, even against his tan skin, and Blago delighted watching him get all goofy over Su Jin. “Thanks.” He headed back out to the front of the store.

With Felicia’s own special brand of help ― mostly batting at ribbons, sometimes pawing the exact ingredient Blago needed in her direction ― she did manage to finish a large number of charms. When Su Jin arrived, Antonio was busy with a customer and Blago had only just begun to clean up her workspace, so the gumiho surprised her when she walked into the back room.

“Hey,” Su Jin said quietly, “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Blago drew a blank. “For what?”

The way Su Jin sat down seemed somehow lighter, smoother than the way anyone else Blago had ever met; her every motion just slightly off from what Blago would classify as human-standard. That, and the bright, fiery aura that flickered around her, a constant reminder that Su Jin had probably been alive for centuries despite her youthful appearance. If Blago was right, she could be young for a gumiho, but ancient compared to anyone else.

“I was rude to you at the vet’s,” she sighed. “I didn’t know you, but I made a snap judgement and that wasn’t fair. I thought you were cheating on your partner. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

Blago gaped. “That’s — you don’t have to—” She couldn’t get any words out.

“I really do,” Su Jin said. “I’d like to be friends, if it’s okay with you.”

And just like that, her aura shifted into a gentle warmth, welcoming Blago. “Yeah,” she replied shyly. “I’d like that a lot.”

They stumbled their way through conversation for the next few minutes, and by the time Antonio made it back Blago would swear they had known each other much longer than a few weeks. Of course, Antonio seemed unfazed by their sudden camaraderie. He appeared happy to drop down onto the floor and set out the lunch he had made for him and Su Jin.

“Whoa, I didn’t know you could cook, Antonio!” Blago said, honestly surprised. He didn’t seem like the cooking type, and the lunch looked good. It wasn’t store-bought pasta and sauce like Blago made when she didn’t know what someone might like. He had actually made something with vegetables, and rice, and some kind of meat in sauce that looked and smelled amazing.

He ducked his head bashfully. “Jahni taught me,” he said, “Turns out I really like it. I’m still learning, though.”

“That’s still super cool.” Blago headed back out to the front and left them to it. She really needed to stop underestimating people.

***

Su Jin stopped to say goodbye on her way out. “I meant what I said,” she reiterated. “I really want us to be friends!”

Belatedly, Blago remembered the list Eve gave her, still upstairs somewhere in her living room. “If you’re free one night this week, it’s not exactly a social outing, but I could use a friend to go check something out.”

“Something for Eve?” Antonio asked.

“Yeah, there was another person Eve thought might have been killed by the shadow,” she explained, “down near where the Don River meets Lake Shore East.”

Su Jin nodded vigorously. “You need backup? That sounds fun!”

“It could be dangerous,” Blago warned.

“I’ve always wanted to be backup,” Su Jin continued, unfazed. “How about tomorrow night, after we close up?”

“I’m in,” Antonio agreed immediately.

What was Blago going to do? Say no?

***

Jahni still bristled at the sight of her, and when he showed up later in the day his reluctance came through loud and clear.

“We have some additional items, and we're hoping you would sell them,” he muttered, scowling.

“Sure, let's take a look,” Blago agreed easily. From his backpack, Jahni pulled a series of jars, bulk barn tubs, and plastic bags full of different materials, lining them up on the counter. He brought more than she had expected, but Blago did her best to keep her expression neutral. She remembered Lau’s advice: always let the other side make the first offer.

The original delivery of product from the boys had been pretty solid, but some of the items in this batch were rare: more wolfsbane than she thought they would have, rare plants she hadn't noticed during the attack at the high park greenhouses ― all sorts of great things.

“This looks fantastic, Jahni.” She ran her fingers along the jars. “I'm glad you brought them in.”

He frowned. “Let's talk price.”

Before Blago could get down to haggling ― something she actually enjoyed, when it wasn’t with a customer C Antonio made his way up front with a bottle of glass cleaner and a soft cloth.

“Bro!” He greeted Jahni with enthusiastic backslapping and a complicated handshake — classic straight male friend hug. “You brought it all?”

“Yeah,” Jahni said reluctantly. He seemed more relaxed around Antonio, though, and an energy crackled between them. Blago couldn’t quite pin it down. “Just got off work and headed up here. You want to chill later?”

Antonio fairly beamed at him. “Yeah, man. I get off in an hour. That work?”

Jahni nodded, and his eyes tracked Antonio briefly as he continued across the room to the front windows.

When he turned back to Blago, he looked different somehow, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Okay,” Blago took a deep breath and pulled the first jar front and centre. “What's your offer?”

***

Jahni and Blago both come out pretty well in the deal. Jahni got a good price for the stock, and Blago had enough wiggle room for a decent profit on some of the line new items.

She and Antonio spent the rest of the afternoon packaging some of it up to sell direct, storing the rest with Blago’s supplies for making more complex spells, charms, and magical items.

Felicia, of course, took position right in the centre of the action. She alternately pounced on anything remotely crinkly and rubbed her cheek against Blago and Antonio possessively. Adorable.

When Blago finally sent Antonio home for the night, the sky was a riot of purple, red, and gold, streaked with faint clouds coming up off the lake. In the dying light, she watched fondly as Antonio jogged across the street to meet Su Jin and Jahni coming off their own shifts, and waved at them as they headed north up Yonge.

The weather was balmy, the view was nice, and something about the steady crowd of pedestrians who ambled along the street left her nostalgic, so she lingered in the doorway for a few minutes to soak it all in.

A few minutes later, Dermid stepped out front of the vet’s office to gather up the water bowl and pull in the sign as he closed up shop for the night. When he caught sight of Blago, he started visibly.

It had been a long day, and for once Blago felt too relaxed to be self-conscious about her appearance. She waved lazily. Dermid fumbled the water bowl, spilling the remaining water down the front steps when he tried to wave back. He usually seemed so self-aware and self-assured that she laughed before she headed back inside her own shop. Clearly he was having an off day.

She flipped the sign on the door to closed, bolted the lock, and turned off the lights at the front of the shop. She gave the counters a quick wipe down and tidied the shelves before she could officially declare herself free of responsibilities for the evening and finally relax. Maybe she’d eat on a patio somewhere nearby, or read, or open the windows to the warmth and chatter outside and lay on the floor with Felicia for a while.

A knock at the door startled Blago out of her half-formed plans. Dermid. She unlocked it and let him inside. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’d eaten yet,” he said, hands in his pockets. “There’s a burger place up the street Su Jin introduced me to the other day.”

“I could do burgers,” she replied. “Let me feed Felicia first?”

Felicia wound a figure-eight around Blago’s ankles and meowed up at her plaintively. She recognized her name and probably the time of day.

“Can’t say no to a face like that,” Dermid agreed.

Felicia stuck close to Blago and chattered rapidly as she headed upstairs. When Blago made it back down she found him standing just outside the back room, where she kept additional stock, her few magical texts, some supplies for custom orders. 

“See something interesting?” she asked, curious. Dermid’s aura read as mundane as they came, so nothing back there could be of any real use to him.

“Do you have anything like a bestiary?” he asked and then winced. “I mean, uh, that’s probably offensive. I have no idea what I’m doing,” he confessed. “Help?”

“Like a guide to different magical beings?” she suggested as they headed out the door.

He looked relieved. “Yes, exactly. The more I learn about all this, the more I want to know. Need to know. I’m flying blind here.”

“I’ve got a book like that,” she replied slowly, “but I’m not really comfortable loaning it out.” Especially not to a mundane. “Something in particular you’re looking for?”

Dermid scrubbed one hand through his hair. “I just have a lot of questions, I guess.” He stuck his hands back into his pockets. “I wasn’t really able to do anything for your friend Antonio. If I knew what kinds of things were helpful to different friends of yours, that would help me out a lot. Werewolves, seers. Witches.”

“Uhhh,” Blago tried to play for time.

“I want to help,” he added when he noticed her lack of enthusiasm. “It seems like there’s a lot happening. More than just this shadow business, right?”

“Y-es,” she said slowly. “But I’ve already handled most of it. Really, you shouldn’t worry about it. If you’ve got questions you can just ask me or Eve or Lau or whoever.”

He frowned, not entirely happy with her answer, but let it drop when they stopped outside Holy Chuck. Miraculously, the line was short enough for them to order and grab a wobbly, two-person table quickly.

Holy Chuck was a hole in the wall burger joint with thirty-two kinds of burgers and twenty-three kinds of milkshakes, in addition to everything else on the menu, but Blago pretty much always ordered the same thing.

Dermid picked up where they had left off. “I’d really prefer to read about it myself.”

“If you’re worried about it, you can come over and I can help you look something up, but I don’t let my books leave the shop.” Something about even the idea of it gave her the heebie-jeebies.

Dermid must have realized she wasn’t going to budge, because he seemed to deflate. “Yeah, I’ll stop by sometime.”

Not long after, the cashier called their number and the conversation lulled while they both made a dent in their burgers.

“Speaking of, have you made any progress on that shadow thing?” he asked. “Do you know what it is yet?”

Blago pulled a face. “Uh, Eve and I got sort of distracted by something else. It was pretty rough, but I got some cool potions ingredients out of it.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it turns out the mob – our mob, not yours – have this funeral home? They were harvesting body parts from people in the community.”

Dermid gestured with his burger. “You know I’m eating right now, right?”

“You asked!”

“I guess,” he agreed with a wry expression. “So what, you went up there and told them off?”

“Uhhhh.” She wasn’t entirely sure how best to explain it while they were seated in the middle of a restaurant. After a moment’s thought she figured she might as well just go for it. Dermid had been pretty accepting of all the new things they had thrown at him so far. “Well, we broke in, and Eve totally fought a Salamander. We had him turn himself in to the regular cops though, so it’s probably fine, and I got a box of potion ingredients out of it!”

“You broke into a funeral home,” Dermid said flatly, “got in a fight with a member of organized crime, and stole from the mob before, what, fleeing the scene?” He actually set his burger down to just sort of stare at her in disbelief.

“It was for justice?” Blago tried.

“So what, you’re going to try your hand at necromancy now?”

“What? No!” She physically recoiled from the thought. “Where would you get that idea?”

He threw his hands up in defeat. “You just said they were harvesting body parts and you took a box of ‘potion supplies’ before you left!”

“They had other things, too! Way to jump to super offensive conclusions.”

“I don’t see what else you wanted me to think,” he muttered and rubbed at his forehead. “You’re confusing.”

“I’m really not.” Blago rolled her eyes and went back to eating her burger.

When Dermid had packed away most of his burger and made a considerable dent in his fries, he asked, “So… what's Lau?”

“She's a landlord,” Blago replied absently. At least, that was probably the easiest way to describe it without getting into their complicated mutual relationship with the shop.

Dermid stared at her blankly. “No, I mean, you're a witch, so — what's Lau?”

“Oooh.” That made more sense to her. “She's a seer.” When Dermid still looked confused she added, “She senses death.”

“Huh. I thought she was your mentor or something.”

Blago sighed. On the list of things she lacked in order to be a proper witch, a mentor ranked right up there with the familiar she still hadn’t found. “I don't have a mentor,” she admitted. “I'm basically self-taught.”

“What, really?” Instead of the judgemental expression Blago had come to expect from people who found out about her lack of training, Dermid looked intrigued. “So anyone can learn?”

“Well, no.” She tried to think of the best way to explain it. “I don't know exactly how it works, but I think of it like a gene, usually recessive but stronger in some families. Like Lau comes from a long line of seers. And my mother was a witch, or at least had a little magic in her. But you,” she continued before he could ask about it, “are as mundane as they come. I can't sense any magic coming off you at all, versus say, Antonio who might as well be made of pure magic. Same with Su Jin.”

His expression soured. “Thanks,” he said drily. “What's wrong with Su Jin?”

Blago shrugged. “Nothing as far as I can tell. Gumiho tend to live very long, healthy lives.”

“She's a what?” Dermid looked surprised.

“Maybe I shouldn't have said anything? I thought you knew, since she’s dating Antonio.”

The rest of dinner was awkward.

As the icing on the cake, when she got back all her waste bins had been knocked over, the contents scattered out of the laneway and across the front of her shop, including the green waste. “Raccoon crimes,” Blago muttered to herself. She half wondered if she could report it. Probably not. The response rate from 311 in the city was abysmal at the best of times.

She dug up a broom and a dustpan and began to clean it all up. In the humid heat, leaving it out would only lead to a smelly, disgusting mess in a short period of time, inviting to even more raccoons. And mice, and rats, and who knew what else. Not something her shop needed, ever.

Just her luck, she realized as she looked over the street ― none of her neighbours had the same issue. She made a note to try out the pest control charms she had made the other day and buy some bungee cord to wrap around the lids.

After, Blago found a large, flat rock leaning up against the back of the building and hefted it awkwardly; waddled down the length of the laneway and dropped it on top of the green bin lid with a sigh of relief. That should hold it. Maybe. Raccoons were tricky with their creepy opposable thumbs.

Task finished, she took a long shower and collapsed onto the couch. Felicia made an inquisitive sound at her before hopping up next to her. She turned around a few times and pawed at the seat before folding up into a little loaf, pressing against the length of Blago’s thigh.

She had her cat, a marathon of her favourite cooking show on the Food Network, and the breeze through the window hit her just right. That counted for something.

***

Su Jin came over for lunch again the next day, and as soon as Blago spotted her, she winced. “Sorry! Sorry, I forgot to text you. I thought Dermid already knew about you being a gumiho?”

Luckily, Su Jin laughed. “I was waiting to see if he would figure it out on his own, but this worked out well enough. He had an awful lot of questions.”

“Yeah.” Blago scratched the back of her head. “I told him he could come over and I would dig through my books for him, but honestly I haven’t had much time to read them yet, so I don’t know how useful that would be.”

Su Jin shrugged. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

Blago couldn’t parse something in her tone, so she moved on with the conversation, directing things back to Su Jin. “This is probably rude, but I’m guessing you’ve been alive for a long time ― you don’t get bored working for Dermid?”

“Not at all!” Su Jin responded. “I’m still quite young for a gumiho, and I want to learn as much as I can while I can; try different things out and not get…” she paused for a moment in search of the right phrasing. “Some of my family are detached from the world,” she said, instead. “Do you know what I mean?”

Blago thought of Lau’s parents, who focused exclusively on applying their inherited talent for profit. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Right,” Su Jin nodded. “I don’t like what that does to them.”

“Fair enough,” Blago agreed. “Well, Dermid seems like a good guy to work for, and all the cute animals can’t hurt.”

Su Jin laughed easily. “It’s a definite plus! And I’ve been able to meet people like you,” she added.

“And Antonio,” Blago teased, just to see Su Jin blush a little. When she did, it was easier to think of her as a young woman with a crush, rather than a magical creature much older than Blago and anyone else she knew. Far older than Elżbeta and the others, without a doubt.

“There are a lot of benefits to working with Dermid,” Su Jin conceded. “But I actually came in for a different reason. I brought lunch!” She held up a bag of takeout containers. “I hope you like Caribbean food,” she added.

“Love it!” Since Antonio wouldn’t come in until after lunch, she flipped the sign on the door to _closed_ and locked it before they headed into the back room.

“A friend of mine owns a restaurant not far from here,” Su Jin explained as she pulled out the containers. Inside she found selection of vegetarian items which looked and smelled heavenly: curried bean curd with tofu, a spicy stir fry topped with plantains, pumpkin soup and rice, and other things Blago couldn’t immediately identify but wanted to try.

The food tasted as good as it smelled, hearty and filling and hot enough that she got up a few times to refill her water. “Are you going to Pride?” Su Jin asked once they’d both slowed down.

“Yeah, if I can close the shop I figured I’d check it out from the roof,” Blago replied. The building, one of many two- or three-story blocks along Yonge Street, had a fire escape up the back that allowed for roof access. “You’re all welcome to join me, if you want. The more the merrier.”

“That sounds great,” Su Jin smiled. “You won’t lose business by closing?”

Blago honestly hadn’t thought about it. “During the parade itself, most people don’t come inside unless they’re looking for a bathroom anyway,” she replied. “And while I get the need for a bathroom, the only one here is up in my apartment, so.” She shrugged. “Closing the store right after the parade gets close to here is probably a good plan all around.”

“Great,” Su Jin smiled. “I’ll bring Dermid and Antonio, and something to drink. Will Lau and Eve come?”

“Probably.” Blago slipped her phone out of her pocket to fire off an invite to them both. “And Antonio should bring Jahni. He doesn’t like us much yet,” she confided, “but I’m hoping we can win him over. He reminds me of Lau.”

Su Jin laughed for a long minute before she trailed off in hiccoughing gulps. “Sorry, sorry.” She wiped at her eyes, “I can see it, I just — can never un-see it?”

Blago tried to picture Lau as Jahni or Jahni as Lau, both of which made her laugh, too. When she calmed down, she said very seriously, “We can never tell either of them.”

“Pinky swear.” Su Jin solemnly proffered her littlest finger.

They shook on it.

“At least, not until Jahni likes us well enough that it’s too late to leave,” Blago grinned. Friendship meant not showing your super weird side until they were already invested, for Blago, anyway.

***

She closed shop around seven that night, and even remembered to text Eve about her plan to check out the Corktown Commons. _Be careful_ , Eve texted back. _I’m unavailable tonight._

With Lau? Blago replied, followed by, Su Jin and Antonio will be with me.

None of your business. Don’t message me until tomorrow unless it’s an emergency.

She made sure Felicia had food, water, and clean litter before she locked up the shop and headed outside. Su Jin and Antonio waited on the steps to the vet’s office, their knees pressed together companionably. They stood up and cut through a gap in traffic to meet her with matching grins. “This is going to be great!” Su Jin enthused. “I’ve never investigated a crime before.”

Blago wanted to say something, but she had acted the same on her first expedition for Eve. “Just — keep your guard up,” she warned them both. “You never know what might happen while we’re out there.”

The Corktown Commons was one of the newer parks in the city, built as part of an effort to revamp the waterfront from an industrial wasteland into something between a tourist attraction and mixed income residential district.

The three of them took the subway down to Queen Station and transferred east on the streetcar. It was still hot and humid, and Blago slid the streetcar window back as far as it would go to get a breeze going. It didn’t take long for the skyscrapers of the financial and entertainment districts to give way to two- and three-story buildings, mostly mom and pop shops, older houses, and banks. Despite the increased green space, it seemed hotter than downtown with so little shade available. They were still downtown, but it hardly looked like the Toronto Blago knew best.

Antonio and Su Jin seemed completely unbothered, dark heads ducked together for a quiet conversation in the pair of seats in front of her. Blago kept her eyes on the scenery outside and tried to give them some privacy. The closer they got to the river, the emptier the area looked. Flat industrial complexes and the odd high-rise apartment building stood in stark contrast to the short commercial spaces, empty parking lots, and unkempt fields. 

Thankfully the trip didn’t take long. Blago pulled the yellow cord along the top of the window for their stop at River Street. “Hey, this is our stop,” she interrupted with a tap on Antonio’s shoulder.

The three of them swayed through the other passengers to the back doors and stepped off onto a narrow sidewalk in front of a bank. Blago pulled the map back up on her phone. “This way,” she turned south.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been out here,” Su Jin offered. “A lot of these apartment buildings look brand new.”

“The whole city is condos now,” Blago shrugged. “We’re supposed to double in size in the next ten years.”

“Double?” Antonio repeated incredulously. The city already had a housing crisis with prices skyrocketing for rentals, new builds and existing homes alike. Blago knew it would be hard for people to find somewhere to live in the city, even with the constant construction of new buildings.

After a few blocks they passed under the massive, graffiti covered expanse of the highway. Underneath the walls had been painted bright and colourful, with plenty of recycling bins to keep the space clean but the smell and noise from the traffic overhead put a damper on her appreciation. Unlike Lau, Blago had never been a fan of cars.

They emerged out the other side into a wide, open area made almost entirely of gravel parking on one side and half-constructed buildings on the other. Blago moved faster. To her right the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows. Finally, just past another newly finished apartment complex, they arrived at the Commons.

The greenest areas formed the shape of an eye — an artificial marsh, a sweeping lawn for dog walking, and enough trees that Blago breathed in deeply and with relief. As the park sloped down towards the river the green grass transitioned into tawny prairie grass and a bike trail. The space calmed Blago, but if she closed her eyes and concentrated something felt off, just like it had at the Gardens and at Riverdale Farm. The sensation didn’t hit her as hard. Instead the dark, oily magic seemed to have faded.

“What do you think?” she asked Antonio and Su Jin. “Eve said something about the river.”

Su Jin gestured downhill. “Then let’s head to the river. You let us know if you feel anything.”

The Don River was actually two rivers, the east and the west, that joined up south of York and flowed due south through the east end of the city before bending sharply into Lake Ontario. City signs warning of sporadic flooding after heavy rains marked the embankment past the trail, a muddy arc that turned suddenly steep at the edges. Any year the entire waterfront didn’t wash away frankly amazed Blago.

One stretch in particular seemed to have been worn away more than others. The wear had created an overhang of grassy turf, followed by a metre-high drop to water level. Blago wasn’t like Lau, she couldn’t sense death. But she did get impressions from magic, and something bad had happened just under that overhang.

Her palms itched, pulling her right to the edge, and she stumbled forward in the dying light only to be pulled back by Su Jin.

“Careful!” she said. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Let’s go down over there, where it’s less steep.” The bank did look easier to navigate just a few metres up-stream, and the three of them carefully side-stepped down it onto the shore of the Don.

“I think this is where it happened,” Blago said. “I could see why the police might think it was an accident.”

Antonio wrinkled his nose. “It stinks here.”

“They cleaned up all the pollution in the nineties, didn’t they?” Blago asked. She vaguely remembered buttons and a campaign after the river had finally become too toxic for fish and birds. It looked and smelled fine to her, now. Muddy, but clearly full of life.

“Not like chemicals, like…” he scrunched up his face, confused. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But I don’t like it.”

“Then it looks like we’ve found the right spot.” Su Jin walked a few steps along the shore before she turned around. “If you fell here, or got pushed off the grassy part, you’d be pretty much invisible from the park, wouldn’t you? That’s how I would hide a murder. Make it look like an accident.”

“Creepy.” Blago squinted uphill. The park itself had a lot of trees, and the overhang stood high and wide enough that someone could easily stay out of sight. With the noise of the river and the highways overhead, at the right time of day, Su Jin was right. You could get away with murder in plain sight.

She shivered despite the heat.

“That’s horrible.”

The three of them stayed quiet for a minute.

“Hey!” someone yelled suddenly from higher up the bank. Blago turned to see a woman had stopped her bike on the track. “You should get away from the water! There have been a lot of dead animals around there this summer, might be something toxic in the water!”

“Thanks!” Blago called back. She, Su Jin and Antonio made their way back up the shallow path, but Blago’s mind stuck on something she said. When they reached the bike trail, they found her waiting.

“You didn’t touch the water, did you?” she asked. “I don’t know why the city hasn’t put up signs.”

“No, we were just looking,” Su Jin replied.

Blago thought back to the host of small dead creatures she had found in front of her shop all summer. “Do you know what kind of animals?” she asked. “I thought the Don was clean.”

“Me too,” the woman shrugged. “Birds, fish, some small rodents. It happened more often earlier in the month – I haven’t seen any lately, but I’m still worried.”

“No kidding,” Blago agreed. “Thanks for the heads up. Enjoy your bike ride!”

“Get home safe!” she replied and pedalled off down the stretch.

They waited until she made her way well out of sight around the bend to continue.

“You’ve got that thinking look.” Antonio pointed between his own eyebrows. “Right here. Did you figure something out?”

Blago bit her lip, indecisive. It might sound stupid when she said it out loud, but... only one way to find out. “What if… what if the shadow didn’t start with magical people?” she asked. “What if it started with smaller things, things that might be easier to catch?”

“Like squirrels, or fish?” Su Jin nodded. “They’ve still got a spark in them. And this spot is out of the way. Less populated, harder to see from the track if you’re careful. If the shadow happened upon an actual magical person in its hunting ground…”

“Yeah,” Blago agreed. Graham Weatherly, whose name she had pencilled in next to the Don on her list, might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She didn’t mention the animals outside her shop. The shadow had no reason to go after her until the greenhouse, as far as she could tell. But if the shadow killed animals both along the Don and outside her shop it might have been sending her a message.

She swallowed thickly, her shoulders tense and her stomach uneasy. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t think we’re going to find anything else.”

The streetcar ride back into downtown was quieter, with far fewer passengers. Su Jin and Antonio parted ways with her at the subway, and when Blago got home, Felicia waited, bright gold eyes gleaming in the darkness. 

She had grown, but when Blago thought about how tiny she was when they found her, her stomach churned. The shadow could easily have found Felicia before they did, and Blago would never have had this soft-furred, affectionate companion to come home to at night.

She scooped Felicia up into her arms and rubbed their cheeks together. “I think you deserve some extra treats tonight,” she said.

Felicia purred up a storm in response.


	15. The Pride Parade

The day of the Pride parade broke scorching hot, but the crowds of people along Yonge didn’t seem to care. Workers had set up barricades for media stations the night before ― white tents on tall platforms to get the best angles on the parade ― and the 24-hour McDonalds, and its public washroom, did brisk business as soon as the shops opened.

Blago taped a sign to the front window stating that they didn’t have a bathroom, and hung a series of pride flags in the other before opening the shop for the day. A steady stream of people didn’t believe there wasn’t a washroom, but Antonio handled most of them while Blago sold a surprising number of protection charms, parasols, and (at Lau’s suggestion) fruit-infused water in reusable bottles.

“It’s pre-cut fruit and tap water, and it’s $7 including the bottle and $1 for refills. Why would anyone buy this?” Blago asked the night before clearing space in her fridge for bottle after bottle, stacked high on the lower shelf.

“Trust me,” Lau had replied.

And of course, she’d been right. They sold out in the first hour, and Blago had to leave Antonio on the floor alone to go upstairs and make more.

By the time the parade actually started to inch into the neighbourhood, they had run out of infused water again and the cheers and dance music outside had reached a fever pitch. When Dermid squeezed his way through the sidewalk crowd and into her shop followed shortly by Su Jin, Eve, and Jahni Blago sighed with relief.

It took a few minutes for Blago and Antonio to cash out the remaining customers, but at last they closed and locked the door against the wave of sound, heat, and colour. Su Jin, as promised, had several bottles of fizzy drinks with her, and by the looks of it everyone else had brought snacks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in shorts before, dude,” Antonio greeted Dermid as he enveloped Su Jin in a hug. He tried to take her bags for her, but she declined, giving him a kiss instead.

“Yeah, nice stems.” Eve leered jokingly at his bare calves.

Dermid looked embarrassed. “We’re closed today, for the parade. Seemed appropriate.”

“Come on, we don’t want to miss anything. Lau hates it when I’m late,” Blago interrupted. Leading the whole group up her narrow stairs, past Felicia as she napped on the landing, and then outside up the rickety fire escape was an ordeal, but they managed the ascent without incident.

The roof of Blago’s building wasn’t much, but the clean and flat surface made a good balcony replacement, and Lau had been up already that morning to set up lawn chairs, patio umbrellas, and coolers. After the steady press of people downstairs, it might as well have been an oasis: shade, a solid view of the parade and the packed streets and balconies nearby decked out in pride flags.

Blago grabbed a seat in the shadow of one of the umbrellas and immediately slathered any exposed skin in sunscreen ― despite her mom’s heritage, she had a tendency to burn quickly.

“Hey, Lau can you—” she started but stopped. Lau and Eve had squeezed onto a single lawn chair, their heads ducked together. Intimate, sweet.

Blago swallowed and turned away, only to find Dermid watching her. She shivered. “Help a buddy out?” she asked and waggled her sunscreen at him. “I need someone to get the back of my neck and shoulders.”

He didn’t say anything but took the tube from her and moved to sit behind her on the chair. Conscientiously, he took the time to warm up the sunscreen between his hands before applying it in smooth, firm strokes down her neck and shoulders. He made sure to get under the straps of her shirt and up into her hairline, and Blago’s head fell forward, her eyes drooping.

“That should do,” Dermid said brusquely with a final brisk slap to her on the shoulder.

By the time she had raised her head, Dermid had already crossed the roof and settled again on his own lounger. “Thanks,” she said belatedly.

“Don’t mention it.” He grabbed a drink out of the nearest cooler and stared over the edge of the roof down at the crowds below.

Jahni stuck close to Antonio and Su Jin, a little awkward and standoffish. Instead of trying to start up a conversation, Blago gulped down half her drink and stood up, making her way closer to the ledge.

The first of the big floats finally hit her stretch of Yonge, inching their way between the rainbow-draped barriers to cheers and whistles.

“Your dad’s marching, right?” Lau leaned her arms against the ledge to peer down.

Blago nodded but kept her eyes on the marchers. “With PFLAG, yeah,” she replied, referring to the group of non-queer allies supporting friends and family. Her dad had always been supportive of people like Lau, or David, and wanted to make sure everyone felt safe around him. When Blago had finally come out to him as bisexual, it hadn’t been hard to convince him that marching in the police float wasn’t a great way to support the queer community.

“We’re out of lemons,” Dermid called from the cooler. “I’ll grab some and be right back.”

“Grab some oranges, too!” Jahni yelled.

“You’ll miss the parade!” Blago called after him, but he had already ducked down the fire escape.

She and Lau watched together, and slowly the rest of the group joined them along the edge as the parade built in intensity, a flurry of rainbow and Canadian flags.

“Blago,” Lau suddenly gripped her arm tight just as the PFLAG group marched into view.

“Yeah, I see him!” she replied, but when she turned, Lau wasn’t smiling. Instead, she looked stricken, and her eyes were fixed past the parade, towards the buildings across the street. “Lau?”

“What’s wrong?” Eve asked.

“She’ senses something.” Blago winced at the sharp dig of Lau’s manicured fingers into her forearm but held steady. “Give her some space.”

The others took a half step back, just before Lau sucked in a breath and finally turned to Blago. “The shadow, whatever it is,” she stuttered, uncharacteristically inarticulate as she shook herself clear of the vision. “It’s here.”

“Where?” Blago, Su Jin and Eve asked as one.

Lau pointed, trembling, to a small laneway behind several older buildings across the street. That gave Blago a starting point to work from. She pulled herself free of Lau and stumbled down the stairs; pressed her way through the crowded sidewalk a moment later, Eve and Su Jin hot on her heels. “Excuse me, please— it’s an emergency—,” she tried, but the crowd either didn’t notice or didn’t believe her. She couldn’t find a way through the solid wall of bodies.

Instead, Blago backtracked inside the shop and out the back door, down the laneway to the less crowded cross-street. She bolted across at the first gap and pushed against the flow of people and towards the area Lau pointed out.

The closer she got the stronger it became; like a chill or a cold wind, it crawled on her skin despite the sun high overhead and the thick humidity weighing down on her.

Somewhere between that first wall of people and her backtrack through the laneway, she had lost Su Jin and Eve. She couldn’t do anything about it though. She could only push forward.

The crowd thinned the further she got from Yonge Street. The laneway Lau had pointed at was shielded on the west by two tall new condo developments still under construction and on the north by older, squat brick buildings similar to Blago’s. Belatedly, she realized she didn’t actually have a plan of attack, or rally anything on her to use in a fight against a magic-sucking shadow. She shivered again.

Blago slowed down, as much to catch her breath as to be quiet on her approach. In the shade of the laneways the music and noise of pride faded to a dull roar. There, stuck close to the darker corners of the buildings, she could see it. It loomed bigger than before, darker in a way that reminded her of her of something she’d read in her undergraduate astronomy course: not so much that it was the absence of light as that it _absorbed_ light, ate it up with a gluttonous hunger. And there underneath it, collapsed on the ground, she could make out a figure sprawled limp on the asphalt.

Elżbeta.

“Hey!” Blago shouted, but the roiling shadow didn’t react. She stepped right into the centre of the laneway and grabbed an empty tin can from the ground; pitched it as hard as she could at the monster.

It bounced off harmlessly. “I said hey! Leave her alone!”

Her mind went blank, completely. She couldn’t think of any spells, didn’t have any sunshine folded into her pockets, and a few meters in front of her, the shadow ate Elżbeta alive. Blago needed power, or reinforcements, or something. But she had nothing.

Felicia galloped into the laneway and skidded to a stop in front of Blago, back arched, and hissed with a wide mouth of needlepoint teeth. Su Jin and Eve ran after her, hot on her heels. Blago’s skin pulled tight and prickly; pins and needles from the inside out, like she might burst at the seams.

She clenched her fists and slammed one foot down on the pavement, screaming, “I said leave her alone!”

Without a spell or powder or slime or focus object, her magic rushed out of her all at once. For a moment, everything went silent and bright, too bright for the space of the laneway, the only sound a horrific screech from the shadow, like metal bending under an immense weight.

When it finally stopped, Blago’s heart pounded and her ears rang. She couldn’t catch her breath, her vision greying out at the edges.

“Oh shit,” someone, Eve she thought, murmured. Dimly, trail of shadow skittered along the wall and up the fire escape and away. The world went dark.

***

They were injured. But they had eaten their fill and would recover quickly. The old woman knew too much, too many people. She was too close. They had heard her looking for the old man. He was out of her reach now, they’d seen to that.

She’d been an easy target: old, physically weak, but still overflowing with magic. They’d seen their chance and they’d gone for it — together.

Finally, they and the hunger were one.

***

She woke up on her back in the laneway, gritty asphalt digging into her spine, an EMT on one side and her dad on the other. “You’re okay,” the EMT said as he pressed down on her shoulder gently. “Don’t try to sit up yet. Do you remember what happened?”

“Uhh,” Blago croaked, glancing around as much as she could.

From her position on the ground she could barely see Eve and Su Jin, Felicia cradled in her arms, close to the mouth of the laneway as they spoke to David. He must have been at the parade, because he didn’t have a shirt on and his skin had been covered in rainbow face paint. There must have been an ambulance parked around the corner, too. The repetitive flash of its lights as they bounced off the backs of the buildings distracted her. The beginnings of a headache stirred in her temples.

“You got heat stroke,” her dad said helpfully. He squeezed her hand tightly between his own.

“I did?” she managed to say around the frog in her throat. “Is Elżbeta…?”

Neither the EMT nor her dad answer her. “Let’s get some fluids in you,” the EMT said instead. Between the two of them, they helped her to her feet and a wave of dizziness passed over her. Briefly the edges of her vision greyed out again. Blago listed sideways, still an improvement for getting off the ground.

She managed to stumble over to the back of the ambulance where they let her sit on the back step instead of the stretcher inside. When she had run into the laneway earlier it had been empty, but now at least one police cruiser and another ambulance had arrived. “What happened to Elżbeta?” she asked again. “Is she okay?”

“Let’s worry about you first.” Her dad squeezed her shoulder even as the EMT wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her other arm. She watched, dazed, as he inflated the cuff.

“Your blood pressure looks pretty good,” he says. “Maybe a little low. Let’s get some cold packs on you and a nice drink of water. I think you’ll be okay.”

The cold packs took the edge off, and suddenly became aware her thirst and hunger. She hadn’t gotten much to eat or drink before the attack, and explosive magic took it out of her. The longer Blago sat there the more anxious she became. Everyone carefully avoided her questions about Elżbeta, and Su Jin and Eve looked very serious. And then there was the additional ambulance and police cruiser.

Blago closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sounds around her, tuning out the dulled noise of the parade. The laneway stayed strangely quiet without the hum of the power lines.

Wait.

When she opened her eyes and looked around it seemed obvious — all of the windows around her sat dark, even the parade itself seemed quieter. Blago didn’t miss the bass fading in and out from music pumped out by different floats and people’s apartments, though she could still hear the roar of the crowd _. What happened?_

“How are you feeling?” The EMT asked a few minutes later. She didn’t need to lie when she replied, “Much better,” and after some advice about staying out of the sun and getting some more rest, food, and fluids, he gave her the all clear.

Her dad took her arm like she was some kind of damsel in distress, and Blago would have protested but her knees still wobbled as she stood. “What knocked out the power?” she asked as he waved David, Eve and Su Jin over.

“You did,” Su Jin answered, sounding surprised. “You didn’t know?”

Blago laughed. “Yeah, right.” An awkward silence followed while they all looked at her blankly. “...wait, you’re serious?” she asked.

“How much do you actually remember?” David asked.

“First, let’s get back to your apartment,” her dad cut in. “It really is hot out, and you need to rest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blago muttered, but with gratitude. “Will they take Elżbeta to the hospital?” she asked as they slowly made their way out of the laneway and back to the main streets. Most of the parade had passed south already and the crowds had begun to disperse, so the going was easier. Her head still swam. She couldn’t remember Elżbeta’s face, or the colour of her eyes.

“...yes,” Eve said a beat too late. “They’ll take care of her.”

Something roiled in Blago’s gut.

She waited until they arrived back at the shop, until Lau had unlocked the door and helped her upstairs, and everyone ― her dad, Lau, Eve, Su Jin, David, Antonio and Jahni ― crowded into her apartment, sitting on the floor, or at the kitchen table, leaning up against the window ledge.

"Elżbeta is dead, isn’t she.” Blago stared at her bare feet against the wood floors. It wasn’t really a question.

“Almost,” Eve said, not unkindly. “She’s in a coma.”

Felicia leaped out of Su Jin’s hold and made her way across the room. She mewed pitifully until Blago picked her up and settled her on her lap, slowly stroking her back. “Thanks for telling me,” she said finally around a lump in her throat. A coil of guilt curled up inside her, eating away at her, but she couldn’t focus on it right then.

She needed to know what happened. What to do next.

“It’s getting stronger, or— it was, anyway,” Lau said slowly. “I felt it when you knocked it out. You weakened it.”

“That’s good, then,” Eve nodded. “We’re making progress.”

Blago didn’t say sure, at the expense of Elżbeta’s life.

“I still don’t understand, though,” she said instead. “I didn’t have anything on me. How did I knock it out?” And then, quieter: “I only remember passing out.”

“You tapped into Eve and I,” Su Jin said calmly, as though that was completely normal. “And maybe something else, too. Very impressive.”

“Impressive enough to take out half the downtown core,” David muttered.

Eve buffed her nails on the collar of her shirt. “What can we say? You put three powerful women up against anything, we’re going to knock it down and out.”

“I still —what?” Blago was at a loss. “Tapped into you how?” Felicia butted her head up against Blago’s chin with a loud purr, and it took several more long strokes to get her to settle again.

“You honestly don’t know?” she asked. “You borrowed some of our power and added it to your own. It’s a pretty brute-force way to approach the problem, but it worked well enough in the moment. Something more focused would reduce the exhaustion and,” she hummed a little, looking for the right word, “burn out, I think. But I’m glad you could lean on us.”

Lau settled onto the edge of the bed next to Blago. “Maybe you should actually read some of those books downstairs,” she said softly. “I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt because we don’t know what we’re doing.”

Blago dropped her head onto Lau’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “And where’s Dermid?” she asked hazily.

“He got stuck in the crowd when he went to get lemons. I told him to just go home, since you would need to rest.” Lau smoothed Blago’s hair away from her sweaty forehead.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” her dad spoke up. He herded everyone else out and down the stairs until only he and Lau remained. “We’ll need to talk more about this later.” He sounded tired.

“Thanks, dad,” she mumbled.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and made his own exit.

Then she, Lau, and Felicia sat alone in the quiet.

“Do you want food?” Lau asked.

“Sleep first, I think,” Blago mumbled.

Lau extracted herself from Blago’s side. She could hear her close the curtains against the sun and then head downstairs to lock up and switch off anything electronic. Even Lau’s light steps couldn’t escape the creaky 3rd step on her way back up. Blago drifted as Lau filled Felicia’s bowls with food and water before nudging Blago to strip down and clamber under the summer duvet.

Lau slipped in beside her and, once settled, legs tangled together and heads pressed close on the pillows, Felicia curled up on the arch of Blago’s hip, a warm and soothing weight. It wasn’t long before she fell into an uneasy, exhausted sleep.

***

In the morning she lay in that hazy space between awake and dreaming, heavy with sleep with Lau pressed against one side and Felicia still curled on the other. Her magic seemed to reach out tendrils, wrapping them around the beams and boards of the shop, and for the first time she could remember, the shop reached back. Strange, but reassuring.

Blago dozed.

***

The impression dissipated as she came more awake, but it left her more settled than she had any right to be. Somewhere across town Elżbeta lay in an impersonal hospital room because Blago was, at most, a half-assed failure of a witch. No training, no plan. Strolling into danger and dragging her friends along for the ride.

She closed her eyes against the sting of tears, swallowing with effort.

Felicia woke up with a stretch, claws pin-pricking through the duvet as she clambered up onto her chest and head-butted Blago in the chin with an inquisitive noise. For such a small animal, the weight of her paws on Blago’s breast hurt intensely.

“Okay, okay, I hear you.” She scooped Felicia up into her arms and ignored her struggle to get free. “Breakfast,” she muttered. Her own stomach tossed and turned, ravenous.

She fed Felicia and, spotting a loaf of bread going stale on top of her toaster oven, decided to make French toast.

Lau slept on, red hair spread bold across the pillows, until Blago had plated up French toast for two and had coffee ready in the French press she’d finally figured out. At that, Lau rolled over with an inelegant snort and sat up, bleary-eyed and with her hair stuck up in all directions. She held her right hand out for the mug and Blago pressed it into her palm.

“It’s hot,” Blago warned her, but Lau only inhaled sharply as she took a sip, visibly relieved to have caffeine.

“Thank you,” Lau croaked, voice rough with sleep.

Lau had never been a morning person, not by a long shot. They drank their coffee and slowly worked through the French toast in amicable silence. Outside Blago could hear the tinny _ding ding ding_ of the streetcar on College as it shuffled nine-to-fivers and students across town.

“I guess I should open the shop,” Blago said finally.

“No.”

“No?”

“Antonio is handling it,” Lau said easily, obviously sure she could consider it settled.

Blago kept her eyes fixed on her mug. “I can’t do _nothing_.”

“We’re going to visit Elżbeta in the hospital.” Lau ticked items off on the fingers of one hand. “Then we’re having lunch with your dad. After that we’re going to go bring most of your books upstairs and we’re going to study.”

“We?” Blago croaked.

“We.” Lau reached across the table and tangled their fingers together. “You’re not in this alone, Blago. You’re my best friend, and we’re going to figure this out.”

Blago’s eyes stung again but she blinked past it and squeezed Lau’s hand. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Lau didn’t comment. Thankfully.

***

Women’s College Hospital had been completely rebuilt from the ground up not long ago, and the dissonance between its history and the brand new glass-and-concrete building gave Blago the heebie-jeebies.

She had never liked hospitals. They had rebuilt bigger and airier with lots of natural light but none of the history. Nowhere for the ghosts to cling or hide. Instead, traces of things felt smudged all over the walls, the floors, the curtains. Messy. And of course, Lau never looked comfortable in a hospital, either.

Still, the hospital had a good reputation and location, close to a dense magical population. No matter how new the building and equipment, nothing much could be done about hospital rooms themselves. By necessity they had to be sparse and impersonal; full of noisy equipment and the stark quiet of unconscious bodies.

Elżbeta felt like that to Blago when they found her room: a thin, translucent husk of a person, with barely a spark of herself inside. Thanks to her coma she lay unnaturally still.

Lau gripped tight to Blago’s hand as they stood, awkward and unsure, by Elżbeta’s bedside.

“She’s still in there,” Lau said quietly. “At least a little bit.

Blago stared greedily at Elżbeta’s face. As long as she looked directly at her, the memory remained clear, but the second she looked away she couldn’t remember. What did she look like? Smell like? How did she take her tea? “I hate this,” she whispered. “I hate it. She’s still here, but I can’t…”

“It’s just like the Tanuki in the morgue,” Lau agreed. Her nails bit into the flesh of Blago’s thumb, and the pain grounded her. “Every person who knew the other victims feels this a hundred times over, and it will never, ever get better.”

Anything magical Blago could leave would likely be found and contaminated by the mundane hospital staff, which Blago couldn’t risk. And, as much as she didn’t want to think about it, there was always the possibility that Elżbeta didn’t _want_ to get better or come back. She might prefer passing on to lingering here as a pale imitation of herself. Blago had no way of knowing.

 _I don’t want to be here when she dies_ , she thought. Selfish. She wanted to leave immediately. She wanted to remember what Elżbeta looked like without having to be there, so close to her, her own energy rebuffed from Elżbeta’s too-still body.

Instead, she gripped Lau’s hand tight and leaned down close to Elżbeta. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this,” she whispered. No matter what Elżbeta wanted, or what happened next, she hoped sincerely it would work out and that she could find it in herself to forgive Blago.

Lau stayed carefully back, which couldn’t mean anything good. Blago didn’t know what else to say, uncomfortable and upset. “Can we go?” she asked Lau.

They escaped out of the hospital quickly, but that just made Blago’s heart clench.

***

It was still a relief to leave the hospital, to not have to think about what she had to do for the day. Lau had already organized and planned everything, and Blago needed only to follow her to the Fran’s on College and an old vinyl booth near the pie cabinet.

Fran’s Diner was another institution in the city, though not one Blago particularly loved. It felt good to sit in the old building, and soak up the energy of a place which had remained mostly unchanged since the 1940s, but the food hadn’t changed much in that time either, and the prices ran pretty steep compared to her usual haunts.

Her mother used to tell her about camping out at a booth there during her grad student days, taking over a table with a few other students and ordering plates of fries while they worked into the wee hours of the morning.

Her fingers stuck to tacky residue all over the menu. Blago flipped through hers, even though she already knew what she would order, and let the low din of conversation and cutlery wash over her.

Her dad scooted into the booth a few minutes after her and Lau, looking tired. “Are you both okay?” he asked, as if he hadn’t seen them off the night before.

“Yeah, we’re fine, dad.” Blago fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers aimlessly.

Lau orchestrated small talk while they waited for their server. They ordered quickly, sat briefly in awkward silence as her dad stared at her, scanning her face for some sign of...something.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Blago said finally, desperate to break the silence. “My face is not that interesting.”

“You know, when I thought you were just having some youthful adventures, I was actually happy,” he said seriously.

“What?” Blago asked. She looked at Lau, who lifted one shoulder delicately.

He sighed. “You didn’t have a lot of time to finally relax, be a young woman, and have fun.” He ignored Blago’s fake gag at the phrase young woman. “I’ve always been proud of you for working so hard and carving your own path. But most women in their twenties are out with their friends, or dating, or, travelling!”

Lau stayed silent even as Blago wrinkled her nose trying to shake off the feelings. “So you were happy I was out technically breaking the law?”

“A little law breaking is probably good for you,” he said, the first Blago had heard of it. “But—”

He had to pause as their server returned, arms loaded down with carefully balanced, massive plates. They immediately dug in, but it wasn’t long before Lau prompted Blago’s dad to continue. “But?”

“But what you’re involved in now looks dangerous, Blagomir.” And oh, her full name was never a good sign. “I want you to stop.”

“Excuse me?” Lau and Blago asked together.

His expression stayed stern, not backing down, which meant Blago needed to stand her own ground.

“Okay first of all,” she gesticulated with her fork despite Lau’s attempt to tug her hand back down towards her plate, “The Business Improvement Area made me do it.”

Her dad snorted, but she ignored him.

“Second of all, I actually kind of like it!” She hadn’t known it until she’d said it, but it felt right so she kept going. “And thirdly, it’s my responsibility now. You’ve never tried to tell me how to live my life before, so it’s hardly fair of you to start now, when I am a grown adult who can make my own decisions!”

“I’m a cop,” he gritted out, “I’m used to being able to handle tough situations, but I can’t handle this. You shouldn’t be pressured into something because some power-hungry BIA member told you to do it!”

“Hey!” Lau interjected.

Blago rolled her eyes. “Eve is Lau’s sort of girlfriend now, Dad, so maybe keep it civil.” Lau didn’t argue the term.

“Oh.” He paused, chagrined. “Sorry.” With a sigh, he rested his cutlery on his plate. “It’s just, I worry about you, and your mom isn’t here to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Blago asked quietly.

He looked sad, wistful. “About some of the things she did when at your age. I know I said you’ve always taken after me, and you have, but you also remind me more of her every day.”

In Blago’s memories her mom wore a lot of navy suit jackets, pencil skirts, tailored pants; the picture of a woman in academia who covered herself in armour in order to be taken seriously by her male colleagues.

“Your mom didn't let anyone push her around, you know? She got into all kinds of trouble.”

Blago smiled a little. “Yeah, I remember. She told me her side of the family didn't want you to get married.”

“I thought it was because we were so young, or because I was a cop.”

“And when they told her she had to choose, you or them,” Blago picked up, having heard the story many times growing up, “she chose you.”

“And grad school,” her dad grinned. “They never did want her to go into a mundane field.”

Lau tilted her head curiously. Some of the story would have been familiar to her, but not all of it. “I know I'm not exactly the one to question this but— grad school doesn't seem like a rebellious act.”

Considering Lau’s parents barely spoke to her except in order to criticize her ever since her own decision not to attend business school, Blago could see strange the position looked.

“Marrying me was another, but that's not all of it. Before we had you we went to all sorts of protests. I'd be there for crowd control, she would be carrying signs and shouting down the patriarchy,” he grinned. “She was passionate about justice, just like you.”

“And you,” Blago pointed out. Their family pastime.

“The point is, your mother wasn't a big believer in rules if they didn't serve a greater good. And she didn't care how much trouble she got into trying to fix it.” He picked up his fork again, poking at the food on his plate. “But I was there to help her out and keep her safe. You don't have anyone like that.”

“She has me.” Lau reached out to grasp Blago’s hand above the table.

“Yeah, and my friends,” Blago added. “And dad, I can take care of myself. Mom could’ve, too. But having help is… nice.”

A few weeks ago she might not have said so, but things had changed. She definitely couldn’t face the shadow on her own; didn’t want to, honestly. But with people like Lau and Su Jin and even Eve backing her up? That felt doable.

Her dad sighed. “I'm not going to convince you, am I?”

“Got my stubbornness from somewhere,” Blago shrugged. “Must run in the family.”

“Then do me a favour,” he said seriously. “Lean on me, too, when you can. I might not have magic, but I've still got some tricks up my sleeve.”


	16. The Dead Tanuki

“I'm too full to be lifting heavy things,” Blago wheezed on their sixth trip up the stairs. “And my legs hurt.”

Lau did not care. “If you have breath enough to talk you can make at least a few more trips,” she replied flatly. “Don’t try to weasel out of this. I know you feel guilty even though you did everything you could,” her cutting glance dared Blago to argue with her, “so you’re going to pick a topic and study something, anything so you’ll be better prepared next time.”

She made it impossible to argue. Blago didn't complain, but she did get conned into a few more trips upstairs from storage. She dropped the last stack on the kitchen table with a huff.

With little regard for the stacks, Felicia hopped up on a chair to rest one paw on the edge of the pile nearest her, sniffing cautiously. Her whiskers twitched as she investigated.

“You want to do some reading for me?” Blago asked hopefully.

Felicia tilted her head cutely, and her meow sounded like both a question and an accusation; long and querulous, her little mouth wide with sharp teeth.

“Yeah, I know. Gotta do it myself.”

“What, I don't count?” Lau dried her clean hands on kitchen towel and returned to the table, fastidious as always. “We just talked about this. You can lean on me.”

Blago raised her hands in surrender. “I only wanted to see if Felicia was interested to helping!”

Felicia, meanwhile, had scaled the nearest book stack and seated herself neat and tall, tail wrapped around all four paws.

“I think she plans to supervise,” Lau says drily.

“If you're helping me read, someone has to.” Blago grinned and dodged Lau’s half-hearted smack to the arm. More seriously, she added, “You know I’m trying to do things more on my own, but it means a lot that you help me with this stuff.”

Lau smiled, small and worn. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Over the years Blago had found a variety of magical reference books at farmers markets, junk sales, and older book stores. Or rather, it might have been more accurate to say sometimes the books found her.

She could browse the romance shelves of a used bookstore and brush her hand against something musty with spells and history. When she checked out, sometimes it seemed the cashier didn't even notice these books. Blago knew very little about how magic worked, or why, or what normal even looked like in her situation. The strangeness hadn’t struck her until later, when Lau questioned it. She decided to roll with it and go with her instincts.

Her mistake had been that she skimmed the books occasionally but never actually sat down to read them. In her defence, she had a business to run. “I don’t get a lot of time to read these when I’m running the store,” she said aloud. Lau eyed the stacks with an air of judgment. “You know how busy it gets!”

“You also watch a lot of Netflix at night. No excuses.”

Well. She wasn’t wrong.

Blago joked about Lau supervising, but organizing and re-arranging things to her taste seemed to come naturally. So when Lau suggested they start by sorting the books into categories, Blago agreed immediately.

Her collection had an odd mix of volumes, but slowly she and Lau started to identify patterns. Tucked in between hardcovers about the immigration of different magical peoples into Canada she found a ley lines map of the greater Toronto area. There were books on plants and potion ingredients, spells to work into the frames and structures of buildings, farming spells, focus guides, and a thin but well-thumbed cloth bound volume completely about familiars. Blago set it aside for later.

She wound up with stacks focused on potions and poultices, magic based in roots to the territory, different species of magical creatures and spirits, even some general basics.

“Can we take a break now?” Blago asked once she finished.

“You pick a book and start reading, I'll order delivery,” Lau offered as a compromise. Good enough for Blago.

Each of the piles had its own appeal, and she felt overwhelmed by choice. Should she read up on familiars? Or should she start with different creatures to see if I could figure out what the shadow is, exactly? Or she could learn some offensive magic — sunshine might not be enough.

She looked at Felicia. “What do you think?” Felicia weaved her way around the stacks, tail high in the air, accidentally knocking the top book off one stack. “If it's good enough for Felicia, it's good enough for me.” Blago bent over to scoop up the book in one hand and Felicia in the other.

Blago rubbed her nose along Felicia’s whiskers and flopped down on the loveseat by the window with Felicia settled into the crook of her neck. She grew bigger all the time, her sooty fur losing its fluff and shifting to a sleek coat of glossy black though her frame remained fairly small.

The thin volume was about the size of a paperback, but with a faded green hard cover and embossed gold lettering that had faded over the years. _Charms, Tricks, and Simple Solutions_ the cover read. She flipped the cover open and sniffed at the seam inside where it smelled faintly sweet, like vanilla. Blago could never get enough of that old book smell. 

She already knew some of the charms listed, but found several new ones she wanted to assemble as soon as possible: charms to reduce prejudice and encourage open-mindedness, to increase focus for studying, boost motivation, discourage dirt, improve small luck, reduce anxiety, and ease pain. Last in the list she found a mending charm which, depending on the amount of will added to it, could slowly repair objects or darn fabric.

The tricks section was something else entirely. Every page seemed to be covered in information Blago wished she had come across years ago. _As a witch builds her coven she will develop the ability to call on the magic of each member in times of crisis. As the relationships between members grow, the amount of magic she can call on will increase exponentially. A familiar focuses this draw and facilitates the transfer of energy. Conversely, tension or strife in the group can reduce the impact of spells dramatically._

Blago didn’t have a coven, she thought. Not really. But then, in the alley, she had somehow borrowed power from Su Jin and Eve. And Sun Jin had mentioned someone, or something, else.

“Our food is here.” Lau gently hooked her index finger into the centre of the book and pulled it away from Blago’s face. “Found something interesting?”

“Yeah,” Blago paused. “But I'm not sure how to describe it. What are you reading?”

Lau handed her a pair of chopsticks and a container of her favourite seared salmon belly rolls from the place near police headquarters. “Oh my god, I love you,” Blago said and placed the first piece in her mouth with sheer delight. It fairly melted on her tongue with a delicate, smoky flavour.

“It's about familiars,” Lau said slowly, her gaze fixed on Felicia as she delicately hopped up into a free chair to eye their dinners from a position of power.

“Ugh,” Blago groaned. “Eve said my magic was practically out of control, and this book,” she indicated the green volume, “says familiars help focus that. I’ve been lucky so far against the shadow, but it’s still getting stronger. I’m worried, Lau. If I don't have one by now, I might never have one.”

“That's just it,” Lau continued. “I think you already do.”

“Do what?”

“Have a familiar,” Lau repeated, clearly exasperated. She gestured to Felicia with a wave of her hand as if to say ta dah!

Blago laughed. “Come on. Felicia? Dermid found her in an alley!”

“She's a black cat,” Lau began as she ticked items off one well-manicured finger at a time, “who showed up while you were trying to find your familiar, who seems to show up places when you're in trouble and has more than once stood her ground against the shadow. And I could keep going,” she added.

It seemed crazy that the little fuzz ball who refused to use the litter box if Blago also happened to use the bathroom at the same time could possibly be a familiar. But Lau had made some compelling points

Blago set down her chopsticks and rested her chin in one hand so she could look carefully at Felicia. Felicia stared back, bright and focused and unblinking for a long moment.

“How would I even know for sure?”

That seemed to satisfy Lau. “I don't know yet,” she shrugged, “but I'll keep reading and see what I find.”

And, well, if anyone could figure it out, it would be Lau.

***

Lau went home again that night and Blago locked up after her. The dark of the store downstairs felt larger than usual, unsafe in a way outside the ordinary late night unease. The streets were nearly empty by the time Lau summoned a car, and one of the streetlights across the road blinked on and off without any apparent pattern.

She triple-checked the lock and pulled the shade down before she headed upstairs, locking the stair door, too, for once.

Alone with Felicia and her stacks of books, the quiet felt stifling.

In the dim light, Felicia sat on the windowsill and stared intently out at Yonge Street. Her tail lashed back and forth in frenetic agitation.

“Come on.” Blago gathered Felicia into her arms and off the ledge. “Bed time.”

Felicia let out a half-hearted mrowl of protest, but settled uneasy on the other pillow, her whole body tense as Blago adjusted her own pillow several times in an attempt to get comfortable.

It took quite some time for her to fall asleep, and when she finally did it was fitful at best.

***

Blago woke bleary-eyed and exhausted, awake so early more from an inability to sleep rather than being done sleeping. She dragged through her morning routine, knocked over Felicia’s water bowl twice accidentally, and had written the day off as just plain bad by the time she made it downstairs.

She needed to do a few things before she could open the front of the shop: set up the register, adjust any of the displays and give the surfaces a quick wipe-down. With that done, Blago finally pulled up the shade on the front door and twisted the locks open.

Slumped against the front of her shop lay a businessman, his suit a neat, generic charcoal and his legs splayed wide across the sidewalk. “Hey,” she said loudly, “You can’t sleep here. Hey.”

It wasn’t the first time she had found a drunk fast asleep out front. At least this one hadn’t soiled himself, as far as she could tell.

“Hey,” she repeated, and nudged at him with the toe of her sneaker. “Buddy, you gotta get up.”

No response. Blago sighed, and finally knelt down so she could shake his shoulder. His skin was cold against the pads of her fingers.

She stumbled backwards, fell to the ground. In the doorway, Felicia stood with her back arched and fur spiked high on end, tail puffed up high and large. She stayed silent, though, and stared intently at the dead man, her pupils thin slits.

There was a dead man against the front of her shop. Dead.

She fumbled for her phone with one hand and thumbed over her dad’s contact.

“This is probably a call 911 moment,” she said to the empty street, eerily quiet in the early hour. She was alone.

The next hour rushed by in a blur. Blago remembered going inside, remembered hauling Felicia close with one hand while she stayed on the line with the emergency operator, phone clenched in the other. It seemed as though it took a long time for the police and ambulance to arrive, even though there few cars travelled Yonge in the early hours.

Eventually a large fire truck, an ambulance (again) and two cruisers pulled up out front. Inside, Blago sat on the floor, stared at the door and held Felicia close to her chest so she could stroke her wiry-tense body.

“Okay, but I work here,” she could hear Antonio say, frustrated. “Can I go inside? Seriously, she could use someone right now.” The rest of the conversation was muffled by noise from the street, the other cops, the EMTs, but whatever Antonio said must have worked because he did manage to get inside and settle cross-legged next to her on the floor. “Hey, boss. How’d you get a dead Tanuki out front?”

“Tanuki?”

“Yeah.” Antonio pulled a slightly flattened bagel from his pocket and offered it to her. “You couldn't tell?”

“I didn't look that closely.” Blago pressed her shoulder against Antonio’s, solid and reassuring and alive. She took half the bagel and passed the other half back. She scarfed her own half down, suddenly ravenous. “I should call Eve, I guess.”

Antonio swallowed the last of his half down with a gulp. “I think Su Jin is on it,” he said easily. “I stopped there first when we saw the police.”

“Thanks.”

They sat there for a while and ignored the bustle of activity outside. Having eaten something, with Antonio and Felicia next to her, the world slowly came back into focus.

Su Jin must have managed to get a hold of Eve, because she arrived not long after. She introduced herself to the police as a ‘community representative’, though Blago wasn’t sure that meant anything in reality. Eve spoke with an officer for several minutes before being allowed inside the shop. She stood, hands on her hips and as she looked Blago over, assessing.

“Did you kill him?” she asked without preamble.

“What?! No!”

Eve only nodded, as if that wasn't a crazy thing to ask. “Just had to check. I told the cops he was a known shoplifter in the area. Lucky for you it looks like he died of heat stroke.”

“That's— that's what they said happened to Elżbeta. And Abe.” Though Elżbeta wasn't dead yet. Yet. “Do you think—?”

“Lau is trying to get a feel on it,” Eve cut her off. “But yeah. I think our shadowy friend is trying to send you a message.”

It should have made Blago scared. Finding a dead body certainly had. But the idea that this thing had killed someone for no reason other than to threaten her made her furious.

“We'll, message received.” Blago bared her teeth at Eve. “I won't let this happen again.”

“Good,” Eve nodded. “And you’ll have backup whenever you need it. Just say the word.”

“I will,” Blago promised. She had grown used to going it alone, or with Lau, but whatever they had to face, it was big — bigger than her, definitely. But maybe not bigger than all of them together.

As if in approval, Felicia stood on her hind legs and butted her cheek along the line of Blago’s jaw affectionately. She laughed and stroked down Felicia’s sides until she settled again.

“But for now,” Eve continued, “we need to get these cops out of here and make an actual plan.”

“You sound like Lau,” Blago mumbled.

Eve held up her phone. “That’s because she’s texting me from the bakery. Planning requires food.”

“I love Lau,” Antonio said fervently. “Can she pick up chocolate croissants?”

***

Once the body had been removed and the police and EMTs had left, Lau showed up with a small mountain of pastries and a tray of cold drinks. Blago and Antonio fairly pounced on them, and only after her third pain au chocolat did Blago realize she should probably leave enough for Eve and Lau. She froze guiltily, her hand halfway back to the bag.

“Um, sorry. There’s still, uhhh,” Blago stuttered.

“I know you,” Lau waved her off, “and I had a pretty good idea of how much a werewolf could eat. Which is why I ate at the bakery.”

Despite the sign being flipped to closed, they had left the door unlocked. With a jingle of the little bells, David stepped inside. “Ohhh, nice — got any croissants for me?” He closed the door carefully behind himself.

“Sure?” David didn’t normally stop by her shop, especially not in full uniform. “No offence, David, but… what are you doing here?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Your dad sent me over to keep an eye on this place today. You think something happens at your shop and he doesn’t find out?”

“I didn’t want him to get upset!” Blago whined. “Who told him?”

Helping himself to a croissant, David took up a post near the cash. “Doesn’t matter. He asked for a favour, so I’m here all day.”

“I don't need a babysitter.” Blago crossed her arms petulantly.

Eve kicked her in the thigh. Gently. Sort of. “What were you just saying? Something about relying on your friends?”

She had a point, but Blago didn't like it when someone pointed out her inconsistencies.

The mature response would obviously be to stick her tongue out at Eve, so that was exactly what she did.

“Okay, yes, fine. Thanks for volunteering I guess,” she added to David, who simply saluted her with a last bite of croissant before popping it in his mouth.

“I mean there's always a chance your cute vet will show up, too, so my motivations are not entirely pure.” He wiped his hands on his pants and grinned, lopsided and endearing.

“He's super straight,” Lau replied archly.

“And I don't want to date the Mona Lisa, either, but that doesn't mean I don't like looking.”

“Yeah, even Jahni checks out Dermid,” Antonio chimed in.

“Oh, honey,” Lau started, seeming to think better of it before she changed tacks. “Let's not waste time discussing Dermid. We need to focus on strategy.”

Blago shared a confused glance with Antonio, but he didn’t seem to know what happened either. “Okay. We still don't know what this thing is, so maybe we should start with what we do know.”

“Good call,” Eve agreed. She slipped behind the counter and pulled out the roll of butcher’s paper Blago sometimes used to wrap things up for customers, along with a sharpie from her jacket pocket. “I’ll take notes.”

While she did that, Blago slipped a piece of chalk out of her pocket and drew a quick misdirection charm on the floor beside her leg to keep David from hearing too much. He might have been supernatural, but she didn’t know what kind of supernatural, and she would rather keep the meeting a need-to-know situation.

“It was super not into what you did with the light thingy in the greenhouse,” Antonio offered. He rubbed at his chest absently, clearly still affected by the attack.

“Folded sunlight,” Blago replied. “That was lucky. I'm still not sure if I actually hurt it, or if it just doesn't like being seen.”

“So far it’s seemed to stick to darker areas,” Lau added, “or attack at night. You didn't hear anything last night?” She focused sharply on Blago.

“There was some noise, sure, but it's Yonge Street. Trash cans getting knocked over, that kind of thing.” She honestly hadn't thought too hard about it, or rather, she hadn't wanted to think about it. In the light of day, even the thought of stepping out her front door made the hair on her arms stand on end.

Felicia turned a full circle in her lap and meowed in the small, extra cute way she did when she wanted her chin scratched. Blago obliged. “Come to think of it, Felicia acted weird about the window last night. And the streetlight acted up.”

Eve wrote a few things down on the butcher’s paper. “Lau told me her theory. That Felicia is your familiar. It makes sense. But let's write her reaction down as a maybe, for now. She could have just been reacting to the Tanuki being in the area for all we know.”

“Agreed.” While Lau stopped to think for a moment, the bells above the door jangled again and Su Jin slipped inside.

“Sorry, it took a little while to find someone to cover my shift.” She turned to greet David. “Hello! I don't think we've met properly. I'm Su Jin.”

“David. Nice to meet you.” He had the strangest expression on his face as they shook hands, almost as though he had forgotten something.

Lau leaned over, close to Blago and whispered, “Does he know—?”

Blago shook her head mutely. “It's okay. I put a misdirection charm on him.” She wiggled her fingers in David’s direction.

“What have I missed?” Su Jin moved further into the space and dropped gracefully down to sit between Blago and Antonio.

After a quick run-down, she reached out to scratch Felicia under the chin. “Of course Felicia is your familiar.” She looked confused. “You didn't know? Didn't your mentor explain how to identify one?”

“Umm,” Blago’s cheeks heated. “I don't… have a mentor? Lau and I just kind of figure things out between the two of us.”

Su Jin stared at her silently for a long moment. “That explains a lot,” she said finally, then must have immediately realized that sounded. Her eyes grew wide, and she tried frantically to waive the comment off. “I didn't mean that as an insult! I'm so sorry!”

“No, don't feel bad!” Blago caught one of Su Jin’s hands in her own. “There's a lot I don't know!”

The contact seemed to help. Her heartbeat gradually slowed back down.

Lau was ready to move on. “There's a lot we’re definitely missing. Any insights you can offer would be helpful, even if you think they're obvious.”

“I'll do what I can,” Su Jin promised. “What about the last time, across the street? What did you feel?”

“Scared, mostly,” Blago admitted. “A lot scared. And weak. When I realized I didn't have any magic on me, that was… not good.”

“And then?” Su Jin pressed.

“Angry, I guess? That it went after someone who has never done anything wrong, and who's a friend, and just — a good person, you know?”

Su Jin hummed a little. “And after we showed up?”

“It was like…” Blago struggled to find the words. It wasn’t like anything she'd ever felt before. “I was glad you were there. You and Eve are both strong. Stronger than me, and I thought— if I couldn't save Elżbeta, I could at least keep you two safe. Or try, anyway. I didn't want to be alone.”

“And then?”

“And then I felt strong, too. Like, you being there made me stronger or more aware or…” Blago stopped to scrub her hands through her hair. “I'm sorry, I don't know how to describe it.”

“I think that's plenty to start with,” Su Jin replied. “Lots of witches rely on the strength of those they're closest to in order to perform complex magic.”

“That’s— I read something like that last night,” she said shyly. Hearing someone else confirm it lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“Yes.” Su Jin nodded sharply. “I have some ideas, if you'd like to hear them.”

“We’re all ears.”

***

They had seen members of the Tanuki creep around the witch’s shop before: witless, greedy, stupid creatures. Their group wanted revenge, but the hunger knew better.

She would make a lovely meal, once she had built up her power. Just a little more, it whispered. It wanted all that energy and strength. They felt more alive than they ever had before. Stronger. Clear. Purposeful.

The witch didn’t have clean hands, either. She sold the same poisons the Tanuki did, pretending it was for the greater good. They would take her power, make it their own, and stomp out anything that got in their way.

Including the Tanuki who stood outside her shop that night.

He would make a nice little present for the witch; a going-away gift.

Absorbing his power was just the icing.

***

When they both still lived at home, Blago often went over to help make dumplings at Lau's house. The whole family would camp out in the kitchen and form an assembly line: cutting ingredients, mixing them together in bowls, wetting the edges of dumpling wrappers, folding a neat ball of filling and sealing them. At the stove, her grandmother kept a close eye on the cooking process.

It was fun, and at the end of the day she got to take home a few containers for her and her parents to eat.

Su Jin’s approach to taking on the shadow had some similarities. First they pulled together a small arsenal of pocket-sized bits of magic they could all carry with them: more folded sachets of sunshine, charms for safety and well-being, a pocket ward against ill-intentions, that kind of thing. While only Blago could actually imbue them with magic, or handle some of the more temperamental ingredients, it helped immensely to have everyone else cutting paper, tying up bags, or gathering and grinding more ingredients from the store room. Just like Lau’s dumpling parties.

They ordered in for lunch and again for dinner.

“The next new moon is coming soon,” Antonio said defensively over third helpings of Siam noodles with beef.

“No one here would judge.” Eve rolled her eyes. “Trust me.”

Blago could only imagine that menstruation, on top of being a sphinx, being a special kind of complicated.

Su Jin stopped eating and looked directly at Lau. “The new moon,” she repeated. “That could work in our favour.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lau asked, defensive and visibly unsure.

“Your powers should be even stronger on the new moon, right? This would be an excellent opportunity for Blago to piggyback off of them to try and track down the shadow.”

“What?” Blago asked at the same Lau asked, “Is that even possible?”

“You said you tried scrying together when you were looking for your familiar, right?” At their agreement, she continued. “On the new moon your ability to scry with Lau should be even more effective, especially now that you have Felicia.”

Felicia seemed to recognize her name and stopped grooming herself briefly to make an inquisitive noise. Gently, Blago stroked one finger down the dip between her shoulder blades to settle her.

Su Jin turned to Antonio. “When is it, exactly?”

He pulled out his phone and opened an app on his phone. “About a week and a half?”

“Is that enough time?” Eve asked.

“We’ll have to try it and see,” Su Jin shrugged.

Lau kept an actual physical planner— some hideously expensive custom leather tome she agonized over updating each year. Blago watched as she penciled in the night of the new moon.

Blago had a love-hate relationship with her phone, not being a technical person at all, but she would lose papers the second someone handed them to her. She couldn’t imagine using a paper planner. Having a notice pop up on her phone to remind her of an upcoming birthday the following week was a god-send. The set-up irked her, but the end results paid off.

“You’ll remind me, right?” She asked.

“Yes,” Su Jin and Lau replied simultaneously.

With those two on it, what could go wrong?

***

Eventually everyone but David left, and Blago started to clear up the front of the shop, putting things away so they could open tomorrow as usual. “I've got to grab the garbage.”

“I can do that,” he offered. “Where is it, around the back?”

“Yeah! Thanks.” The back door led directly to the alley, easy enough, but then he would have to get them around to Yonge Street. “Just hang a right once you’ve got them and you can leave them right out front.”

“Happy to help.” He ducked out the back and into the dim streetlight.

Getting the right bins out front could be a bit of a hassle, so she expected David to come back with a request for help. Instead she heard a dull clatter outside and made her way slowly to the back door.

“You need a hand?” she called out, poking her head out the door

She didn’t see anyone. Must have been some raccoons knocking into the bins or something, she figured, turning to head back inside.

And that was when someone hit her over the back of the head. Hard.


	17. Back Alley Brawl

Much to her chagrin, Blago had been concussed more than a few times in her life. Once in a snowmobiling accident at someone's cottage, once falling out of bed trying to answer her phone, a few other times that embarrassed her so much she preferred never to talk about them.

Blago’s body reacted to concussions in a predictable pattern: confusion, excessive enthusiasm for whatever shiny thing she encountered that day, and accidental magic.

This time, Blago immediately and intensely became aware of the texture of the pavement under her hands, the way her palms felt scraped raw from the fall, the individual bits of gravel that dug into her flesh.

Her vision swam, but she identified the shapes that cut into view as moderately fancy men’s shoes. For some reason, at that moment, she found them _infuriating._

“We’re tired of you interfering in our business. Killing our friends, stealing our product and shutting down our businesses.” the guy spat. “Stop it. Now. Or you won’t be the only one who gets hurt.”

Some jerk in a suit thought he could come into her neighbourhood and assault her? She had already found a dead body that day and given statements to the police twice that week. Her friends had been threatened numerous times and Blago was _tired_.

Blago gritted her teeth as she climbed to her feet. “I'm so tired of this crap!” She shouted at the asshole, blurry and furious and overflowing with frustration; too hot and too tired and too—

The streetlight in the back alley exploded in a shower of sparks as the magic burst out of her in an unfettered and uncontrolled tidal wave. The force of it knocked her assailant back off his feet and several meters down the lane. Dying sparks fell from the lamp post in a bright curtain, still too bright for Blago’s already queasy stomach. She turned and puked up half her dinner, retching until petered out into dry heaves. Whoever he was, he and his nice suit had scrambled away, but she didn't have the strength to do anything but shiver and fight her stomach for control.

“Blago!” David skidded around the corner. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“That fancy fucker concussed me,” she slurred. “But don't worry, I got him good.”

“Your dad is going to murder me,” David groaned and reached for his radio.

***

The entire section of the power grid attached to Blago’s shop blacked out.

“Sorry.” Blago gently pressed an ice pack to her head. “It was an accident.”

“I left you alone with an officer of the law for twenty minutes,” Lau huffed. “Twenty minutes. And you took out all the power in the neighbourhood during a back-alley fight. How.”

“I thought David needed help?”

The police had come and gone, though considering that the attack marked her third incident in a week, even having her dad on the force couldn’t protect her from suspicion. “I'm pretty sure the officer in charge thinks you're involved in crime,” Lau said. “You're a suspect now by association.”

In the corner of her apartment, her dad stared out the window. “How am I supposed to protect you now?” he asked morosely.

“Maybe you can't,” Lau said, and he jerked around to look at her. “As much of a mess as this is,” she continued, “Blago _did_ defend herself. I'm thinking some mundane self-defense classes might be a good idea, though. We’ve all seen what she's like with a concussion.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Blago squinted at her, but marred the effect by coughing, the big, battery powered flashlight keeping the room bright flickering in response.

“That's the only flashlight I had in the car,” her dad warned and then rubbed at his forehead in frustration. “As soon as you're better, we’re starting those self-defense lessons. _Both_ of you,” he added at Lau’s smug expression.

“Ha!” Blago immediately regretted the exclamation, her head throbbing. She whined piteously. “Can I go to sleep now?”

“Soon,” Lau agreed. “The others should be back soon.”

“What?”

It turned out Lau invited not only Eve, but also Su Jin and Antonio. Even Dermid, and all of them arrived loaded up for what looked like a sleepover — yoga mats and sleeping bags and more flashlights.

“There's safety in numbers,” Su Jin said archly.

“And you promised you'd call for help when you need it,” Eve added.

“And I don't want to be the only person waking you up to check that your brain hasn't melted,” Lau shrugged.

Considering that the last time Lau had checked on Blago after a concussion she’d fried her phone, it was probably either the best or worst idea she'd had in ages.

Blago sighed and pressed her aching head to the cold pack. “Thanks, guys.”

“What are friends for?”

Blago was honestly too concussed to deal with that question. Dermid grinned, lopsided and charming and her stomach turned again. She couldn’t even enjoy his _face_.

She groaned and closed her eyes instead.

***

There were several things Blago was not particularly well-equipped to handle. Messy emotions, managing the shop’s books without Lau, cooking anything more complicated than slow cooker stew, and waking up to see Dermid barefoot in his shorts and a tank top as he cooked eggs in her kitchen.

Spread out across Blago’s apartment floor the rest of the group still slept deeply. Or, in Lau’s case, face down on Blago’s spare pillow, dead to the world.

Gingerly, Blago sat up and tried to assess the state of her concussion without disturbing Lau. She felt sore all over, and a bone deep exhaustion, but no longer like she could trigger another blackout.

That would have to be good enough. She navigated her way between her friends, asleep on the floor and made her way to the bathroom. Priorities.

That done, she checked on Felicia’s food and water, but it looked as though Dermid had already handled it. “I got it,” he said quietly so as not to wake anyone. “Figured you could use the sleep.”

“Thanks,” Blago croaked. The eggs smelled good, and it looked like he had figured out her French press, too, so she poured herself a cup and clutched it between both hands, inhaling the steam. Half the good of coffee lay in the smell of it, warm and dark.

“I promise I didn't poison it.” Dermid turned off the burner and pulled a casserole dish she didn't remember owning closer to the stove. “At least, not on purpose.”

Blago had never been at her best first thing in the morning, but she made an effort to squint at him over the rim. “I'm not ready to drink it yet. Soon.”

“Soon. Sure,” he replied and scraped all the eggs into the dish. “You hungry?”

“Starving. Thanks.”

Dermid shrugged and served up two plates worth of eggs, sliding them onto the table. “I can't help much with the uh, magic stuff, but I figured I could do this. And help however I can medically.” He looked awkward as he said it, his shoulders hunched, so Blago didn't say anything.

They sat side-by-side at the table, though there were several other chairs. Blago didn’t want to make things weird, so she focused instead on her food. The eggs tasted great, just runny enough, and two bites in her body suddenly seemed to realize she was _starving_. “Is this weird for you?” she asked around a mouthful of eggs.

“Is what weird? Eating breakfast with you? Yes,” he said dryly.”

Blago rolled her eyes as dramatically as possible. “I meant the magic. Shadow monsters, creatures of the night invading your veterinary practice, you know,” she gestured with her fork.

He thought about it. “Yes? I mean, yes, obviously. Until a few weeks ago all that was fiction. But I adapt quickly — even said so in my grade school report cards: _Dermid exceeds expectations and adapts quickly to new situations_.”

“Aw, I bet you were cute and grumpy even as a little kid.”

“I’ll tell you a secret.” He leaned close down to her, so close their noses almost touched. Blago held her breath. Dermid glanced down to her mouth for a brief second before he met her eyes again. “I’m always cute.”

“There better be coffee,” Eve grumbled as she rolled off her sleeping pad in a tangle of blonde curls, “if I have to put up with all that sweetness.”

“How do you take it?” Dermid asked. He pulled back and left the table to pour her a cup and start the next batch.

Blago’s heart pounded and she kept her head down, eyes on her eggs as she struggled to regain control.

“Black.” Instead of heading right for the table, Eve made her way to the bathroom.

A minute later, she came out looking a little more put together, if still sleep-creased and rumpled. “Why don't you own a hairbrush or a comb?” She scowled at Blago. “You have hair.”

“It kind of just does this,” Blago gestured. She kept it short on purpose, so it only really required a quick finger-comb in the mornings. Lau called it laziness. Blago called it efficiency.

Eve stared at her with a discomforting intensity. “I hate you and your straight hair,” she said flatly.

Dermid offered her a cup of coffee, the distraction a distinct relief to Blago.

One by one, each of their group woke up and blearily inhaled a plate of eggs. No one in the group appeared to be a morning person, other than Dermid.

Seeing those people unguarded and in a completely different context interested her. Lau and Eve both decamped to the couch to read the news on their phones after eating.

“Thirty-eight degrees today,” Eve muttered. “Holy crap.”

“Forty-six with the humidity,” Lau corrected.

Reflexively Blago looked to her little window AC unit, small but strong enough to cool down her simple space. And when it wasn’t, she could give it a boost with a little cooling charm.

That early in the morning, the curtains were still closed, and she hadn't turned the unit on yet.

Being this close to one of the Great Lakes, the humidity alone could make summer temperatures soar another ten degrees, and during winter drop them to bone chilling.

With her gaze unfocused, her eyes fixed on some middle ground past her phone, Eve reminded Blago of Lau in project planning mode. Blago supposed when you worked with the community inclement weather meant you actually had to make real plans.

Lau slipped out from beside Eve and made her way over to Blago’s fridge. “You’ve got enough space in here. Give me your credit card, I’m going to buy more water bottles and we can sell infused water again today.” She held out her hand.

Apparently Blago had to make real plans for the day, too.

***

On her way out, Su Jin reminded Blago of her follow-up appointment for Felicia, now that she’d grown a little.

In Blago’s few weeks of being a pet-owner, Felicia had grown significantly, entering what Antonio referred to as the “tiny head, big body” phase. Most of her had begun to grow into the size and shape of an adult cat, and her fur had changed slowly from fluff to a smoother coat, but her head hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of her and it looked pretty funny.

Blago made a note of the appointment for the next day and spent the rest of the morning with Lau. They filled bottles with infused water and kept the stock fresh downstairs while Antonio worked the cash. The shop did a brisk business in water, thanks to a cute sign on the sidewalk and the soaring temperatures, and they stayed busy enough that it was almost dinner time before Blago realized she hadn’t been alone all day.

“Shouldn’t you be, uh, out? Somewhere?” Blago asked awkwardly. While Lau had a host of contractors in her phone to help with various and sundry tenant issues, she did still have things she needed to do regularly aside from help Blago sell water to tourists.

“Not today,” Lau replied. “We set up a schedule.”

“A schedule?”

Antonio stretched behind the counter, his shirt lifting to expose a sliver of tanned skin. A young punk who had been loitering near the card decks in order to eye him blushed right down to his collarbones. “To keep an eye on you in case there’s another attack,” he explained, settling back on his heels. “No one’s messing with you on _our_ watch.”

Blago laughed. “Ha, and what, I get a sleepover buddy every night? You can’t keep an eye on me _all_ the time.”

“I’ve already got you covered.” Lau slipped her phone out of her pocket and thumbed open an honest to god colour-coded shared calendar. “Tonight Su Jin is staying over, and tomorrow morning Eve will tap her out.”

“And I’ll be here for shifts during the day,” Antonio added. “So someone can always grab food or whatever. I asked Jahni, but he said he’s too busy.”

“You’re serious.” She grabbed Lau’s phone and thumbed through the schedule. “This says _Dermid_ has a shift this weekend!”

“Of course he does.” Lau rolled her eyes and took the phone back. “He lives right across the street. You having an embarrassing crush is not a reason to put your safety at risk.”

Blago almost argued that Dermid wasn't magical and therefore couldn't necessarily do anything to help her if the shadow attacked before she remembered that Lau, despite her status as a seer, couldn’t either. She shut her mouth.

“Fine.” She pouted for effect. “But I'm agreeing under protest.”

“I'll make a note of it,” Lau replied, unmoved.


	18. Korean Ghost Stories

Having someone around constantly didn’t throw her off as much as she expected. After they closed up for the night, Su Jin crossed the street with a floral weekender slung across her hip, greeting Antonio with a kiss and making small talk with Lau while Blago locked up the till.

“Go on,” Su Jin shoved at Antonio. “I can handle things tonight. I'll see you in the morning!”

Antonio’s hang dog expression was cute, endearing, but Su Jin remained apparently unmoved. She waited until he left and made it halfway up the block before she locked the deadbolt.

“This will be fun!” she said brightly. “I haven't had a sleepover in ages!” For all Blago knew, when Su Jin said ages might actually mean _ages_.

“Lau and I used to do that sometimes, back during grade school,” Blago said slowly as they headed upstairs. “Did you want to do anything in particular?”

She shouldn't have asked. Su Jin’s expression turned gleeful in a hot second. “ _Ghost stories_.”

“Sure,” Blago agreed. How bad could it be? “But let’s get some food first. I’m starving.”

No one had ever described Blago as a good cook. She could feed herself, and the two delivery apps on her phone got a lot of use. Luckily, Toronto was chock full of really good, authentic food, and it took hardly any time at all for the banh mi shop close to Dundas Square to deliver.

“You really don’t have a mentor?” Su Jin asked in between bites of pork belly. “Who taught you how to do magic?”

Blago shrugged. “Books, mostly. Lau and I kind of figure things out together, or I’ll just try what feels right. I’m not even sure where I would find someone to teach me.”

She had yet to find a good resolution for that ongoing frustration, and even talking about it with Su Jin she flushed with embarrassment. Her first priority had been finding a familiar. Blago theorized that if she had a familiar, she would be more worthy of a mentor, able to apply anything she learned. She glanced at Felicia, who had stretched out to her full length along the back of the couch, chin resting on one leg.

Su Jin tilted her head to the side. “The witches I’ve known in the past,” and Blago marveled to think ‘past’ might mean five years or five _hundred_ , “have usually come from families that have a lot of magic in them.”

“My mom didn’t really do much magic, and she died a few years ago,” Blago said flatly. “She was estranged from her family, so. I’ve never met any of them.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Blago took a deep breath and could almost smell her mother’s perfume. “It’s okay. It’s been a few years. It’s just — my mom never really talked about her family. I’m not even sure what her maiden name was.”

“That’s strange.” Su Jin looked at Blago assessingly, and she couldn’t help but think her friend understood more than she said. “Well,” she continued, suddenly bright again, “if you ever want help looking into it, let me know! I can find you a mentor, but I bet I could find someone who knows what happened with your mother’s family, too. If you wanted.”

“Even without a surname?” Blago asked, doubtful.

“Not a problem,” she replied. “Trust me. Now about those ghost stories.”

Eventually they settled in for the night. Su Jin had a sleeping mat and bag and a few of Blago's spare pillows, and one by one they turned out all of the lights in the apartment save one soft-lit table lamp near her.

Blago sat cross-legged on her bed and observed the limning of Su Jin’s jaw in the pale golden light.

“Long ago,” she began, “in the countryside, a farmer couple had a son. They loved their son dearly. Hardworking and honest, he dedicated himself to learning all he could in order to one day take responsibility for the farm. Still, the couple wished for a daughter.

“For many years they tried to conceive without success. Desperate, the husband prayed to any spirit listening, begging for help conceiving a daughter.

“Nine months later, they were blessed with a perfect baby girl. Her features were fine and her temperament even finer. The couple loved her more than life itself, doting on her. They spent their entire savings to buy her a hanbok as lovely as she was, so her clothing would match their esteem for her.

“Her brother also loved his sister, though he was ashamed to admit he felt jealousy over the attentions and praise of their parents. Still, he worked hard on the farm in order to help provide for their family.

“One day, after their son had planted the fields and fed the animals and collected eggs from the chickens, he returned home to find their parents celebrating his sister’s beauty. They made no mention of his efforts, and he felt a dark jealousy well up inside him.

He had been born their son; his sister conjured into their lives by a spirit.

“In a moment of weakness, he wished his sister would disappear, and though he immediately felt guilty, it was too late.

“The next day his sister went out into the nearby woods to pick flowers. An ancient gumiho lived in those woods, and it had heard her brother’s wish. The sister had no defenses. The product of a spirit and a human, she was left open to influence. The gumiho ate her liver while it was still fresh, a delicacy for my people, and slipped into her skin.”

“What?!” Blago eyed Su Jin. “You don't still eat people, right?”

Su Jin smiled enigmatically and carried on. Blago pulled her blankets closer.

“In the skin of the daughter and her fine hanbok, the gumiho returned to the farm. The couple welcomed their daughter back gladly and did not notice anything amiss.

“That night, the gumiho killed one of the cattle and ate its liver, too. And the next night. And the next.

“The couple hired a local expert in these matters to investigate. The man set up camp outside the farm and kept watch all night. He saw their daughter leave the house, slay one of the animals, and eat its liver still warm, spearing the delicate flesh on her clawed fingers.

“In the morning, the man spoke with the father and explained what he had seen. But the farmer would not hear a word against his daughter. She was a gift from a benevolent spirit, and he believed their love for her kept her protected. He cast the man out, asking his son to keep an eye out in town for another expert if one passed through.

“The man stayed encamped outside the farm that night, determined to take down the gumiho. He stayed awake late into the night, his knife at the ready, waiting for the gumiho. But she knew of him, and crept up behind him in the night, killing him quickly as she had the girl. She ate his liver that night and disposed of his body in the woods.

“Over many nights the gumiho feasted on the livers of the farm animals, feeling less sated each time. A second taste of human blood drove a hunger in her, and she craved more.

“The son, on one of his trips into town, encountered another travelling hunter and requested his help. Again, the man camped out and watched as the gumiho, in the guise of their daughter, slaughtered an animal. Again, he reported it to the farmer and his wife. But again, they would hear no word against her. They threw the man out, and that night the gumiho consumed him.

“And so, things went for some time. The gumiho ate well and the farm continued to lose livestock, the town its citizens. The son worked twice as hard to keep the family fed, but without animals for meat or milk or sale, and with fewer customers to buy them, it became increasingly difficult.

“Frustrated with the lack of results, he decided to observe for himself. Exhausted from working the fields, he made camp just outside the farm and hid himself in the tall grass. He struggled to stay awake, but eventually, in the dark quiet of the early hours, he spied his sister creeping out of the farm house and across the field.

“He watched in horror as his sister leapt, unnaturally high, taking down one of their few remaining animals with clawed hands. Finally, under the light of the full moon, he saw what he and his parents had missed: she had the shadow of a nine-tailed fox demon – a gumiho.

“The son had no weapons. He could do nothing but watch and stay silent until she ate her fill of liver before making her way back inside to sleep in his sister’s bed.

“He could not sleep. In the morning, the son waited until the gumiho had left the house before speaking with his father. He told him what he had seen, but again his father would not listen.

“In a rage, he threw his son out of the house and disowned him, accusing him of petty jealousy. The son pleaded for his father to trust him without success, and they chased him from the property.

“Knowing his words would continue to fall on deaf ears, the son travelled to the village and traded everything he had, down to his shoes, in exchange for a long and sturdy knife. He waited for dusk to fall and crept back to the farm house.

“He had little trouble getting inside their simple farm house. First he looked in on his parents. They slept, side by side, and all appeared to be well. But they lay very still, and very quiet, and their dark blankets looked even darker than he remembered.

“Finally, he worked up the courage to get closer, and discovered the sheets were tacky with blood. Their livers were gone, and they lay in repose as if merely resting.

“The son said a prayer over their bodies. He knew then that, even with his knife, he would not best the gumiho, who had been growing stronger the livers of their livestock, and the hunters, the townspeople, his sister and his parents.

“Instead he left the house by the front door and walked along the edge of the forest towards the river. The moon still hung bright and mostly full in the sky overhead, and as he walked he grew fearful of every noise. As he came nearer to the water he saw it: the shadow of a nine-tailed fox cast over his steps, toward the bed of the river.

“He did not falter. Instead, the son came right to the edge and cast his knife into the silty shallows, kneeling to offer up another prayer for his parents and his sister. By the light of the full moon he could see the reflection of the gumiho; the specter of his sister’s face, topped by pointed fox ears, surrounded by nine twisting tails, and decorated with sharp, pointed teeth. He stayed still until the last possible moment as she approached, twisting and grabbing her by the fine fabric of the hanbok that had cost all their savings. The gumiho struggled, but he held her face down in the water until the thrashing of her nine tails finally stilled.

“Finally, the son recovered his knife and cut the nine tails free from the body, but the death grimace of the gumiho on his sister’s face remained with him. As did the shadow of the nine-tailed fox.”

Su Jin let the last words hang in the air for a second, staring unnervingly at Blago. Abruptly, she smiled cheerfully. “Goodnight!” she said and turned off the light.

“What the hell, Su Jin! What does that even mean?!”

Her gumiho friend only laughed at her. “My mother told me that story! Did you like it?”

“How am I supposed to sleep now?! Turn the light back on!”

“You’ll be fine,” Su Jin said dismissively. “See you in the morning!”

***

Blago slept badly. Su Jin, of course, looked fresh and well-rested in the morning. “There’s still an extreme heat warning today,” she warned from the kitchen table when Blago managed to peel her face away from the pillow. “You’ll want to stay hydrated and cool as much as possible.”

“Nuh?” Blago asked intelligently.

“Several people have already died, or been hospitalized from heat exhaustion,” Su Jin continued, reading off her phone. “Hm, though the city has set up cooling stations and public pools are open longer. We should go swimming some time.”

“Lau can’t swim,” Blago mumbled and fell out of bed. She hauled herself off to the bathroom.

Blago’s parents had borrowed cottages from friends on weekends during her grade school years, up on the peninsula. They would drive up early Friday afternoons in a sea of traffic, along with all the other Torontonians headed in the same direction for the summer. She would wake up when they arrived in the rural late-evening darkness, the stars so much brighter than in the city. And while the sound of the waves on the lake had been nice, something about being out of the city unnerved her. She felt unmoored, adrift in all that empty space. Still, she’d learned to swim in the toss of the waves and undertow; emerged every hour for sunscreen and a snack.

Lau had always stayed in the city. Her parents hadn’t let her go to public pools, and definitely not on overnight trips, so she had never learned to swim. At the time, Blago had envied her. Now, she was glad she knew how to swim, but gladder still that she lived downtown, away from the unsettling quiet and empty space of the peninsula.

Thankfully, because Blago hadn’t woken up enough to plan anything further ahead than the next half hour, Su Jin dropped the subject. Instead they ate breakfast together and got ready for the day in shifts before making their way downstairs to open the shop.

“Can you get the front door?” Blago headed for the safe in the back room.

“Of course,” Su Jin agreed.

Blago had never been described as particularly graceful. The entirety of her focus had to remain on the register drawer, so it stayed level on her way back up to the front. She could hear Su Jin pull up the blinds and unlock the deadbolt. “Hey, what are you doing?” she called over the din of the morning traffic.

“Getting the register?” Blago set the cash drawer on the counter to count.

“Sorry, not you.” Su Jin crossed the store back to the counter. “There was a guy outside, acting strange, but when he spotted me he ran.”

“What weird guy?”

Su Jin shrugged gracefully. “Some old man with sunglasses. He was just staring.”

“Eh, it’s Yonge Street,” Blago replied. The busiest street in the city drew more than its fair share of weirdos.

Su Jin collected her overnight bag from upstairs and brought it back down as Antonio arrived for his shift. They kissed each other good morning before she crossed the street for her shift at Dermid’s practice, and Antonio got to work on inventory.

Blago had expected Antonio to be a chatty person when she’d first hired him, but while he was plenty good at making easy conversation with customers he was also happy to work quietly, especially in the mornings. What a relief. It took Blago a while to wake up every morning, and his presence allowed her to hand off the frankly draining chit-chat to him when she got overwhelmed. He seemed to thrive on it, and she grew a little bit happier every day that he had wound up working in her shop.

In the early afternoon, she lured Felicia up onto her shoulder. Her little claws dug needle-sharp through Blago’s shirt and into her skin to keep hold. “Okay, we’re going across the street for her check-up or whatever. Do I need a babysitter to cross the road or…?”

It was a joke, but Antonio gave it actual thought. “You’ll probably be fine,” he said after a long pause. She would have left without him anyway.

Instead, she stuck her tongue out at him on her way out the door.

Since they were pretty sure Felicia was her familiar, she felt less nervous about having her outside without a carrier, or one of those pet leashes she sometimes passed on cats in the park.

Felicia rubbed the angle of her jaw along Blago’s cheek, purring loudly and winding herself around Blago’s neck when she entered the vet’s foyer.

“Hi again.” Blago waved awkwardly to Su Jin and tried to ignore the suspicious looks of the other pet owners in the waiting room. In their defense, many of them had dogs who look _increasingly_ interested in Felicia.

“Hey! I’ve got room two all set up for you and Felicia.” Su Jin came out from behind the counter and gestured down the hall. “But let’s get her on the scale over here for weighing first.”

The scale sat tucked against the stairs and blocked on three sides by low wooden walls so pets couldn’t make a run for it. Felicia had no issues with the scale, however. She climbed down Blago’s arm — that was going to leave some marks — and sat gingerly on the metal pad while Su Jin bent over and made a note of the number.

“Good! Let’s get you settled in room two and then Dermid — Doctor Flannagan will be right in.”

Room two looked almost identical to the other rooms Blago had seen the last few times she had been at the vet. A large metal table dominated the small space along with two chairs tucked into the corner, a sink and counter covered in vet supplies and pet treats. A smaller scale squeezed into the remaining counter space on the far side of the room. The walls had been plastered in posters about immunizations and dental hygiene, which Blago read over several times while she waited.

Felicia investigated the space purposefully. She crept under the table and along the counter base, hopped up into the sink with a proud sound, and sniffed carefully at the laptop in the corner before she returned to the table.

Dermid slipped into the room several minutes later, looking harried as he closed the door. “What is it about heat waves?” he asked without preamble. “I’m swamped.”

“What?” Blago asked, but Dermid immediately shifted focus when Felicia stopped her investigation of the metal table and scrambled under Blago’s chair with a hiss. “Guess she remembers last time.”

“Yeah.” Dermid ignored her and headed over to the sink to wash his hands and put on a fresh pair of gloves. “How about you get her up on the table for me? She’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Blago tugged Felicia out from under the chair and up onto the table but uncharacteristically, Felicia fought her tooth and nail the whole way, even as she purred loudly. She coiled her body tight, ready to escape at her first opportunity. “Hey! You know Dermid. You like him.” she scolded her. “Chill out!”

“She’ll settle down eventually,” Dermid said as he returned to the table. He lifted her gently and tucked her into the crook of his elbow, her paws bundled into one hand so she couldn’t kick or scratch him.

“Let’s see how much you’ve grown.”

Dermid doing his vet thing would never get old for Blago. He didn’t use baby-talk with Felicia, thank goodness, but he did address questions to her with a grave seriousness. As though she might actually answer him directly.

Despite the growth spurt and her tiny-head phase, Felicia looked small in his hands, her fur a strong contrast against his tanned skin. Dermid handled her gently, speaking in a low voice. Felicia, in contrast, remained unhappily defensive the whole time.

“So when should I get her spayed?” Blago asked finally. “You do that, right?”

“Spaying?”

“Yeah, you know. So I don’t wind up with kittens?”

“Uhhh,” he stuttered, “Didn’t you say she was your familiar?”

Blago shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s still a cat.”

“She’s a magical creature! I can’t just spay a familiar!”

“Why not?” Honestly, Blago did not get it.

“What if she needs different medical care?” he asked, flustered. “Or what if spaying her somehow affects your magic? We don’t know _anything_.”

Blago gave him a flat look. “You just gave her like, a full check-up.”

“I’m winging it,” he replied. “And I’m definitely not performing surgery on her unless someone in the know can tell me it’s safe — for both of you.”

Honestly, that was sweet in its own way, but she rolled her eyes. “Okay, scaredy pants. I’ll ask around or something. Do we need anything else?”

“...do you want me to trim her nails?”

Felicia had attacked the shadow before, but Blago wasn’t sure if her claws had anything to do with it, or if they did any damage. On the other hand, her own arms and shoulders were covered in long scratches and she was getting tired of strangers giving her judgmental looks when she wore a tank top.

“Yes, please.”

Felicia very much did not like _that_ process, either.

***

That night, he showed up at the shop in the evening with two bags of takeout from a popular dim sum restaurant and an overnight bag. “I come bearing gifts,” he called out.

“Great timing!” Blago was _very_ happy to see food. The store had been busy all afternoon, and she hadn’t had a chance to order anything. Her stomach grumbled loudly at the prospect of finally eating.

Dermid dropped his belongings upstairs and met her in the room at the back of the shop. “I wondered,” he said once they finished eating, “Do you think we could look at some of those books tonight? Since it’s just the two of us.”

It wasn’t exactly romantic, but Blago still felt knots in her stomach. “Sure,” she agreed, “but if you’ve got questions, I can do my best to answer them.”

He stood up and walked along the line of her shelves. Felicia, still apparently upset about the vet appointment, remained in the corner where she kept a close eye on him, hissing whenever he came too close. “Okay,” he said. “I know you said Eve works for Chimera—”

“Eve _is_ Chimera,” Blago corrected, then mimed zipping her mouth.

He didn’t seem to mind the interruption. “It’s just, I don’t think anyone ever explained what Chimera actually is, or how it works.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that despite his involvement in everything, Dermid lacked magic or any real connection to her world.

“I can tell you what I know, but Eve would be a better person to explain it. Or Elżbeta.” she added quietly. If Elżbeta ever woke up. She would have been a great resource for Dermid. She swallowed past the preemptive grief. “It’s basically the magical government and law enforcement. There are three people who represent the GTA, and Eve is specifically in charge of Toronto-proper.”

“So there are two more?” he asked. “Are they sphynx like she is?”

“I’ve only met one of them, a Lamia. They’re a sort of—”

“Mermaid,” he finished for her. Her surprise must have shown on her face. “They’re an old Irish story,” he explained. “My mother used to tell me stories about them. But is it okay to put a Lamia in charge of your, uh, justice system? Don’t they eat people?”

Blago laughed. “I wondered about that, too, for a second, but the stories are exaggerations. I mean, Su Jin told me a story last night about Gumiho eating people’s livers, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been going around murdering people and animals, so.”

Dermid didn’t laugh, though. He frowned. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

“Are you _sure_ she hasn’t been killing people?” he asked seriously. “You said she has been alive for a very long time, right? I mean, she seems nice but… what do you really know about her?”

“She was with me when the shadow attacked Elżbeta,” she pointed out. His line of thinking didn’t sit right with her, but she could maybe see his point. “It can’t be Su Jin. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he moved on. “Okay, but what about this justice system? How does it work?”

“That’s a good question.” Blago scratched her head. “There’s usually a sort of jury of other magical beings, I think? Though at the funeral home Eve gave that Salamander a choice of that or the mundane police, I think because what he had done overlapped enough with their jurisdiction and they were already investigating.”

“But do they get a representative, like a lawyer?”

“Not as far as I know?” Which, admittedly, wasn’t much.

He sighed. “Doesn’t sound much like justice to me.”

She still needed to deal with her own reservations about what little she knew, and Dermid wasn’t helping.

***

Surprisingly, she grew accustomed to having a team of “Blagositters”, as Eve called them, quickly. Some nights were more awkward than others, but really it provided her with a chance to get to know her new friends one-on-one, without Lau. And while she always felt more comfortable with Lau around to do the heavy lifting, she got to know them more personally without her.

Still, when the night of the new moon finally rolled around, Blago felt relieved. Antonio had grown progressively crankier and _hungrier_ all week.

“I saw him eat _three_ burgers from Burger’s Priest today,” she told Lau after Antonio had left and Dermid arrived. Yonge Street finally grew dark and quiet. Late. “And that was just for lunch.”

The Burger’s Priest was famous for monstrous creations like Blago’s own PMS favourite, The Vatican City: a double cheeseburger with two grilled cheese sandwiches instead of buns. It was, in Lau’s words, “a lot”.

“I found your stock pot,” Dermid called out on his way back down the stairs. “Is this really what you use for scrying?”

Blago shrugged. “Why not? It works pretty well.”

“I figured you would use something more,” he frowned, and gesticulated loosely with his free hand, “Uhh…”

“Witchy?” Lau supplied. The flush on his cheeks confirmed it. “Cauldrons are hard to find, and expensive if you don’t want a piece of trash. Most of them are decorative.”

“I need something reflective,” Blago added. “And strong. Plus, this baby came with a full set of other pots and pans for, like, seventy bucks.” She patted the stock pot on the side affectionately. “Does a good job, cleans up nice.”

Dermid raised his hand in surrender. “Forget I asked.” He watched her set out the rest of her supplies for a minute before his stomach growled.

“You’re still hungry?” Lau asked.

He looked embarrassed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Lately I’m hungry all the time. I think I’ll run out for some food. Do you two want anything?”

They didn’t, and Dermid made sure they locked the door behind him before he headed north up Yonge, where several restaurants ran late night patios. 

Blago, for all her witchy traits, had one truly weird skill: drawing perfect circles freehand. She took extra care with it that night as she curved the chalk across her floorboards in a neat arc to form the circle and crisscrossed the centre with sharp, straight lines to complete it. Even with only that done a static charge connected her to the building through the joists and beams, down into the old dirt of the city and the hidden pathways underfoot.

Unlike last time, Felicia didn’t seem inclined to clamber inside the pot. Instead she sat at the edge of the circle, tall and upright as her tail lashed back and forth like a metronome.

Dermid had filled the stock pot with good Toronto tap water before he’d brought it down, and Blago hefted it smack into the middle of her circle. As soon as it connected with the ground, everything intensified.

Scrying had never felt like that before, and she hadn’t even really started. Abruptly, Blago sat down before she fell.

“You okay?” Lau asked. She sat opposite Blago, across the stock pot, and reached to place a hand on her forearm. The contact made it _overwhelming_. Like the volume had been cranked up to eleven and she had sat too close to the TV.

“It’s just, it’s a lot—” she could hear herself say, but distantly. To her right Felicia’s tail lashed again. She felt antsy, over-stimulated. Felicia itched distractingly at the edge of her consciousness, until she stalked to the far side of the pot.

When she finally sat down, everything snapped into place. Like finally sorting out the wires and cables and getting a clear picture. It happened instantaneously. Normally, her mind would spread out over the slope of the city, down to the waterfront and back up across the neighbourhoods in wide passes. But today, with the lights of the shop out and the world outside dark under the new moon, the magic pulled her immediately west. Not far, but the image in the pot was so _clear_.

“Benches,” Blago said as if from a great distance. “Grass, trees. It’s a park, I think, but it’s narrow. There’s a path all down the middle. Paving stones.”

“Keep going.”

“It looks familiar. Old buildings to the sides, though they’re hard to make out in the dark.” Her vision stuck close to the ground, not looking up, and it took a moment for Blago to see why. The space was dark, yes, but even in the middle of it she could make out a darker patch, shuffled under a low bridge off to the side. _The shadow_. “It’s there, right now, it’s there!” Blago’s heart pounded in her ears. She’d worked herself into a panic, hadn’t thought they would actually find it so _soon_. She had hoped she would have a day or two to prepare, to get ready to—

“Look for something identifying.” Lau broke her circular thoughts.

“Anything?”

The vision followed the indistinct form of the shadow around the curve, and just past it she could make out three tiers of stone cut like amphitheater seating.

“Fuck!” Blago exclaimed. Her mind broke the surface and lost the vision entirely.

“What?” Lau leaned forward.

Blago took a deep breath and clenched her hands on her knees. “It’s the Philosopher’s Walk.”

“That weird park at U of T?”

“The one mom and I had lunch in a lot,” Blago clarified.

“Okay. You drive. I’ll call the others.” Lau stood sharply.

“It’s like a fifteen-minute walk from here,” Blago protested.

“The last few times this happened you were dead on your feet after, and we might not have fifteen minutes. Gather up as many offensive charms as you can,” she continued. She had already pulled out her phone and texted furiously. “Su Jin, Antonio and Eve are in. They’ll meet us there.”

“What?” Blago felt frozen to the floor.

Lau rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to finish this tonight, you’ll need all of us. I just need Dermid and Jahni to actually respond to me.” She stabbed at the screen as if that would make them answer faster.

“I don’t know how I did it before!”

Lau pinned her with a sharp look. “We’re loaded down with charms and jumping without looking is your specialty, remember? Stop freaking out and get your shoes on. We have to go.”

Yet again, Lau was always right.


	19. The Philosopher’s Walk

When Blago had dropped out of university, she didn’t have a backup plan. When she moved into the space above the shop, she didn’t know how to run a store. When she met Eve, she figured she would roll with it and see what happened. Her whole life had been a long history of stumbling into the right place at the right time and managing, with help, to keep her head above water. She had been scared before, but never like this.

The Philosopher’s Walk wasn’t big like the other parks nearby. The walk filled a narrow space surrounding a cobblestone path and thin stretches of grass and trees on either side. In the warmer months it doubled as a popular lunch spot. Blago and her mom had eaten there when her mother had a gap between classes and office hours. 

The park stretched from the Royal Ontario Museum and Bloor Street at the north to Hoskin at the south, situated right in the heart of the University where it met Queen’s Park and the provincial legislature. During the school year, it filled with students as they rushed across campus or ate their lunches, studied or napped.

Late, on in a summer evening, was a different world entirely: dark and quiet, hemmed in by University buildings and shielded from the rest of the city. Some of the city’s homeless population made camp there on benches or against the old trees. That night was no exception.

Blago looped north around Queen’s Park, turning right at the light without pausing before she drove right up over the curb and onto the paving stones, between the tall stone gates towering overhead.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lau shouted, her hands gripped tight to the back of the seat in front of her. “We don’t drive on the sidewalk, and this isn’t your car!”

“Do you really want to argue this right now?” Blago drove through the tall stone gates and part way into the park before she killed the engine. “I figured illegally parking on the street might draw some needed attention.” She scrambled free of her seat belt and the car without waiting for an answer.

Blago’s heart raced. She hadn’t been back to campus since she dropped out of school. In fact, she actively avoided it whenever possible. The campus might have been large but every corner of it came with reminders of her own failure, of her mother, of the life she left behind. She shivered, despite the balmy summer air.

In the dark, it looked like most of the homeless had cleared out. Probably because of the shadow, not far ahead in the middle of the path, hunched over a body and feeding.

She didn’t have time for memories. Instead she stumbled face first into danger with Felicia on her shoulder.

“Hey, asshole! I thought we talked about this!” Blago yelled. She fumbled for one of her sunshine sachets. “Stop eating people!” She unsealed it with her thumb and tossed it at the creature like a grenade, covering her eyes against the intense flare of light.

The shadow reared back from the body on the ground with a shrill screech.

She had its attention now.

The shadow hissed at her before swinging its head — or what she thought of as its head — to the left. Blago followed its gaze.

She hadn’t seen the Tanuki since one of them had attacked her behind the shop, and she hadn’t been at her best then. But between their neatly pressed suits and the shadow-like mask effect over their eyes, she would have recognized them anywhere. “What are you guys doing here?” she asked. “It’s dangerous. You need to go.” They might not have been good people, but they didn’t deserve to get _eaten_.

Instead of listening to her, they silently spread out to block off the exits at the north and south. Blago hadn’t intended to run, but without an exit she felt suddenly claustrophobic.

“You and your _pet_ ,” sneered one of them, “have interfered in our business for too long. Destroying our businesses? Killing my men? Threatening us with your gumiho, with Chimera? This ends tonight!”

“My what? I did what now?” She turned to look at Lau for help but taking her eyes off the shadow proved to be a mistake. It bolted forward, tangling itself around the nearest Tanuki, writhing and twisting as the man screamed.

“She controls it!” the Tanuki shouted. Something seemed familiar about him, but she didn’t have time to figure it out. Blago scrambled backward, suddenly unsure.

“Get her!”

“I don’t even control my cat!” Blago yelped. She wasn’t prepared for this! She wasn’t prepared for the shadow, let alone organized crime.

Lau reached her at the same time the Tanuki did, letting loose one of her screams as she sprayed them in the face with a small canister. “Pepper spray!” she gloated smugly as they reared back in pain.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Blago barely dodged a kick from one of the Tanuki. Lau didn’t answer — they both had to focus on trying to get through the Tanuki.

Blago kicked whoever made the mistake of getting inside her radius, dodged anyone upright, and tried desperately to get closer to the shadow. Just before she made it one of the Tanuki landed a glancing blow off her temple. Blago staggered, swallowing back a surge of bile.

“I’m trying to _help you_ ,” she muttered. “Would you _please_ stop hitting me over the head already _?!_ ”

“Liar!” he spat. “All you’ve done is destroy our livelihoods! Why won’t you stay out of our way?!”

It was a familiar refrain, and through the fog in her head she realized he sounded _exactly_ like the guy who hit her over the head behind the store. Suddenly, the pieces fit: taking over the sale of Jahni and Antonio’s goods, shutting down the funeral home side business. They’d been harassing her for weeks in response and she was _tired_ of it.

She lashed out with her left hand, a force behind it she hadn’t had before. She knocked the Tanuki off his feet and back several meters. He skidded across the grass and out of her eye line. “I don’t have time for this!”

Her ears rang persistently, but her vision stayed clear and when she got back to her feet she could see that others had joined the fight. Eve and Su Jin cut their way through the crowd to the north with claws and fire, while behind her Antonio and Jahni threw rocks, sunshine packets, and what must have been some of the small offensive charms they’d made before.

A full-on brawl erupted between her friends and the Tanuki, and in the middle of it all the shadow grew darker, larger and more solid, still wrapped around the first Tanuki.

Lau and Su Jin were right. With all of them so close to her she felt stronger, thrumming with energy. She pushed aside another Tanuki with barely a thought and he skidded across the paving stones. She could sense them the same way she felt Eve and Lau, Su Jin and Felicia and Antonio — even Jahni, all there in the midst of the chaos.

The shadow froze, slithered free of the Tanuki who dropped to the ground, limp and lifeless. Blago couldn’t care just then. The shadow looked directly at her. Even without eyes, the weight of its gaze on her, the focus, weighed down on her as though it sensed her increased strength, too.

Blago just wanted it all to be over. “What do you _want_?”

It didn’t seem concerned with speed or expediency. The thing oozed forward down the slope of the path, closer and closer. Blago held still. She still had sunshine in her pockets; reaching into her back pocket she felt another two sachets there, rubbing them between her thumb and forefinger. Her whole body thrummed with magic and the rush of her blood through her veins. She struggled to hold still, her eyes locked on the shadow.

Blago could feel the hunger in it, palpable and repulsive. When it came within striking distance it reared up, ready to make her its next victim.

Blago flung the two sachets of pure sunshine right into the core of it, where it flared hot and white and released another scream. But feeding off the Tanuki had made it stronger.

Out of the corner of her eye Lau turned her back on the Tanuki, her hands out in front of her as she screamed, “Blago!” but it was too late.

The shadow shrieked, high and unholy, shivering in front of her. Faster than she could blink, it shook off the sunshine and pooled, mid-air, directly above her.

The next thing she knew was darkness.

***

There was no up, no down, no sideways. No sound, no sensation, no anything at all. All there was, all Blago knew, was the void.

Is this what Elżbeta felt? Is this what it was like for her in that alley?

Maybe not. Elżbeta had been on the ground, outside the shadow, and there something struck Blago as strange in her empty space.

She tried to scan the darkness, but found nothing. Blago drifted untethered, and she curled in on herself, suddenly cold. Only Felicia’s rough tongue licking at her fingers, like she did sometimes when she wanted Blago to wake up and feed her, grounded her.

Had Felicia been there before?

Her little black cat, her familiar, looked at her with those piercing gold eyes. It seemed as though she could see _inside_ Blago. If she could speak, Blago knew what Felicia would say:

Get up.

In the void she felt at peace, and so tired. But Felicia, licking and biting at her fingers, clearly didn’t feel the same and something itched at the back of her brain. Someone else. Lau. Lau needed her somewhere.

That brought it all back — the Philosopher’s Walk, all her friends, the Tanuki. The shadow.

The plan.

Just because she couldn’t see, or hear, or feel anything didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Her body was still in the park, still in the middle of the fight.

She scooped Felicia into her arms and pressed their foreheads together, breathing deeply and closing her eyes, reaching out with her mind.

She struggled without a focal point but Felicia seemed to help, cutting through barriers millimeter by millimeter. Together, they clawed out of the darkness, until Blago her awareness came back in pinpricks of light and energy. Even mundane Jahni, no spark of magic in him, was palpable on the other side of the void. She pulled in the threads of magic and connection, through the void and the darkness; pulled and pulled and _pulled_ until she was fit to burst and then—

Blago exploded. It was the alley and the greenhouse amplified ten times over.

Her world went from complete darkness to an eruption of sound, light, and fury. When she hit the ground with a thud, the nearest street light rained a shower of sparks down on her as a man collapsed next to her. His breath came hard and fast, but so did Blago’s.

Over the sound of blood pounding in her ears she could hear more street lamps as they shattered down the length of the park, the thwack of shoes on pavement before someone dragged her away from the man next to her.

Blago whined. Covered in bruises, her whole body felt tender and raw. “Hey, easy on the goods.” When she managed to look up, Eve transformed fully, her teeth bared, and her eyes fixed on the man.

“Blago!” Lau cried out again.

As she came back to herself it seemed that gravity took hold of her one limb at a time, the rest of her body unfocused and strangely empty. She blinked slowly as Lau collapsed next to her, her hands trembling and grasping clumsily at Blago’s arm. Lau patted at her cheek, frantic, but Blago couldn’t pay attention.

She couldn’t see the shadow, but a creeping sensation of unease and unceasing hunger remained nearby. After a minute, Blago’s eyes focused fully and she finally recognized the man Eve had pulled her away from.

“Dermid?” she asked incredulously. “When did you get here?”

He looked _rough_. His cheeks pulled gaunt against the bone, his skin pale with a sickly pallor. She’d always thought he’d been picture-perfect, but as she came back to herself he came into in an entirely new light.

Average. Average and kind of dirty. Everything about him shifted into a different focus. Dermid still had an undeniable pull that dragged her towards him; repulsed and scared and compelled. Her stomach flipped, queasy and confused.

“He’s the shadow!” Su Jin yelled.

 _Dermid?_ It seemed impossible, and then suddenly all at once, _too_ possible.

He laughed, a broken, frightening sound. “I told you I was going to get bite to eat. Why’d you have to show up and bring all of your criminal friends with you?” He heaved himself up until he knelt with his fists clenched into the grass.

“You’re the shadow?” she repeated and looked to Lau for confirmation. “This whole time? But, you’re my friend. Felicia’s vet — you can’t be...”

“I can’t believe it took you this long. I’ve been right beside you, all of you, this entire time.” The Dermid she knew had always been quiet and polite. Now he acted dismissive and cold, full of some kind of toxic pride.

“But you’re _mundane_! You don’t have any magic, so how… how…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

The Tanuki had either fled the scene or been beaten back, her gaze fixed firmly on Dermid, or the husk of what had been Dermid. More than ever before, Blago’s awareness of energy and magic flared up; she knew her friends gathered close behind her without looking. To her left, Jahni took another step forward, shovel raised in his hands.

Dermid looked directly at him. “ _You_ must understand.” He made himself small, gazing up at Jahni from the ground. “We’re the same. My mother was magical, just like yours, but we didn’t get _any_ of it. Cursed — we’re both cursed.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Jahni sneered. “What, you think the world _owes_ you magic?”

“I barely knew her,” Dermid continued, shifting his gaze to Blago. “I never got the chance for her to teach me anything, tell me anything about our heritage. That’s how this happened. She died too young. Please, I need your help!”

Blago shook her head slowly. “That can’t...You can’t…” It didn’t make sense. The words that spilled out of his mouth didn’t line up with the Dermid she had come to know. She needed to keep him talking. “The dead animals outside my shop, and on the river. You took energy from them first? Why?”

Dermid bent his head. “You don’t get it. I need magic. I _deserve_ d it! A few little pests on the waterfront wouldn’t hurt anyone. Just rats and pigeons, no one would care. I only took a little.”

“That’s how serial killers start,” Eve spoke up. “First torturing and killing animals, then more dangerous prey. We know you didn’t stop at animals.”

He sneered at her, his forearms shaking slightly where he braced them on the grass. “This city is full of poison. I only did what was right. I only went after the criminals _you_ were too lazy to catch.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I needed enough proof to send them to the mundane jail, through the mundane court system,” Eve corrected. “Justice is a process. Don’t try to compare what you did to what I did.”

That was news to Blago. In hindsight she could see that Eve talked a big game to avoid further fighting, how her actions were calculated to end in victory by surrender.

Her comments only served to make Dermid more petulant. He scowled. “You were taking too long. And then you hired _her_. I’ve never met a more useless witch!” He spat in Blago’s direction. “I wasn’t going to die a mundane. I knew I could get stronger, do what none of you could.”

Blago had begun speaking before she had time to think. “Not by _eating people!_ What the hell, Dermid?! All those people? You hurt them worse than death, and the people they left behind will _never_ stop grieving! They’ll never get better! You attacked Elżbeta! Was she a criminal, too? Do you think all those people, all of us, deserve that?”

“She got in my way. Just like you, and Harold, and Eve and Lau and your moronic werewolf. I did what was necessary. It wasn’t hard — the human authorities didn’t even notice. They think it’s just _heat stroke,_ ” he scoffed. “You didn’t exactly figure it out either, but at least you were kind enough to bring me a feast. Tell me — should I eat dessert first?” He scanned the group one by one until his gaze landed on Blago with a disturbing hunger. She shuddered.

Su Jin stepped forward. “He’s weak, and insane, but I don’t think the mundanes can handle him. He’s too far gone.”

“He’s dangerous.” Lau squeezed Blago’s free hand tightly. “Don’t let your guard down.”

“I might be human, but I’m not weak. Or deaf,” Dermid spat, and climbed to his feet, quicker than she expected. Before she could blink, he darted towards her where she knelt on the pavement at Eve’s feet, and she wasn’t ready, not ready at all—

And then Antonio hit Dermid over the top of the head with a mean looking metal spike. He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Antonio shifted awkwardly as they all turned to stare at him. “Has he always been that much of a jerk?” he asked Su Jin. He still held the spike raised high like he wasn’t sure if he might need to use it again.

“What is that thing and why do you have it with you?” Jahni eyed the tool with something like admiration.

Antonio held it out so Jahni could take a closer look. “It’s from the vet’s office. Su Jin grabbed it for me.”

“It’s used to prevent bloating in cattle,” Su Jin said. They all looked remarkably calm, though Blago’s heart pounded in her ears.

She struggled to her feet as Dermid groaned.

“We can do take your kids to work day later. Finish him off and let’s get out of here.” Lau’s words sounded confident, but she trembled faintly, maintaining her death grip on Blago. “It looks like you knocked out power for the University _and_ the legislature, which means the police will be showing up soon. I don’t want to be around when they get here.”

“Right.” Blago shook her head clear. After the last few weeks, she really needed to stay out of trouble and off police radar. “We need to finish this.”

“What should we do with him?” Lau asked Eve.

Dermid managed to lift his head, his gaze dark and murderous as he glared at her.

Several unconscious Tanuki lay on the ground nearby, and more had probably fled already. Without an escape, Dermid suddenly looked small, helpless. He didn’t look threatening at all.

But a sick, poisonous energy seeped out of him in waves that made her stomach roil. Her brain rebelled at the idea that Dermid had hurt so many people, _killed_ people, and for such a stupid reason. Someone she knew held all that poison inside him, and she hadn’t had a clue.

Dermid lay pressed hard to the paving stones, his fingers clawing into the cracks, watching her. “Maybe you're not that different from me, after all. You want to get stronger. You basically told me so.”

“I'm nothing like you.” Blago hissed. “I don't need to hurt other people for strength. I’m not afraid of being human.”

“And she has us,” Lau added.

“And I would still have them, even if I lost my magic tomorrow.”

“Lies! They’ll leave you in an _instant_! None of you people care about anyone outside your circle. You all left me alone!”

Jahni took another step forward, his shovel still raised. “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here. They may be annoying, but they’re good people. And they cared about you. Even when they thought you were completely mundane.”

Dermid shuddered and shook. He started to cry.

The longer Blago watched him, the clearer it became that he wasn’t going to accept mundane justice. Pinned down, beaten, his exits cut off, and all he wanted was to be part of the magical community; to be one of them.

Dermid hadn’t had a chance to learn from his mother, and neither had Blago. Alone and angry, he lashed out with greed and fury. He’d closed himself off.

Blago had, too, at one point. But she had Lau, and Elżbeta, and now so many more people. She had the rest of her life to keep studying, keep improving, to learn to do things _without_ Lau. And however much time she had left, that would have to be enough.

“I was never one of you,” Dermid spat. “You called me mundane and you thought I was weak. But _I_ took out the Tanuki’s boss. _I_ killed one as a message. _I_ went after the drug dealers and the criminals. _You_ were the weak one.”

“Maybe,” Blago agreed. “But I had to do things my way.” That she knew for certain.

“How do we do this?” Eve asked, cracking her knuckles.

“Not like _that_.” Lau rose to her feet and pulled Blago with her. She forcibly lowered Eve’s hands and turned back to Blago. “What do you think? What does it feel like?”

“Like… an oil spill. Sort of. Or,” she closed her eyes, “it’s like when I break a glass in the kitchen.” She concentrated on the slick, greasy sensation of tainted magic; the way it held its own tension around it, dangerous and sharp. Her mind reeled away from it.

When she opened them again, she knew what she had to do. He would never be satisfied. He would never stop. Whatever had made him vicious and cruel had a voracious appetite; it wouldn’t ever lessen. “I’m sorry,” she said to Dermid, though he ignored her and beat his hands against the ground, his eyes wet as he raged incoherently. “I _have_ to separate the dark magic from you,” she said quietly. “If there’s good left in you, I know you can survive. So please, Dermid. Please try.”

But there didn’t seem to be much left of the Dermid she thought she’d known. Tears stung Blago’s eyes.

Su Jin grasped her left hand and the shape of the dark magic came more clearly into focus. “Thanks,” she said, relieved not to be alone. “That helps. I think I can… um.” Blago paused, a little embarrassed. “Can you guys make a chain?”

“Like a metal chain or like…?” Antonio looked confused until Su Jin grabbed one of his hands on one side and Eve’s on the other.

“What are you going to do? Give me the Care Bear Stare?” Dermid looked up, angry. His mood seemed to cycle rapidly between defeat and rage. She could practically _hear_ him roll his eyes, suddenly confident again. “You don’t have enough power to stop me. I’ll do it again, and again, and again” he raved, “until every last criminal in this city is wiped out.”

What he wanted wasn’t justice. She tuned him out. 

“If you take this from me, you’re no different!” Dermid’s voice rang desperate, thread; higher pitched than usual.

“I keep telling you — I’m nothing like you, Dermid. I’m not _taking_ anything. I don’t plan to keep it.” The emptiness from before vanished and she filled to the brim with anxious energy. Over-filled, even. If it were possible to spill over with anxiety, Blago had achieved it. As soon as they all connected, the problem became easy to visualize. The stolen energy and the poisonous parts of him tangled up like the Gordian knot.

“Plans change.” He sounded sad, almost regretful. But he had done repulsive things, wrong things, and she couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t risk letting him loose.

She had only to separate the toxic threads of Dermid from the mishmash of other energy still stuck tight to the core of him, like tangled headphones. Blago reached out with her magic, pulling at the threads one by one. The last slick strand fell away easily, the remaining poison with it. Threads gone, the core of Dermid shriveled.

She dropped Su Jin’s hand, breaking the connection. The last thing Blago wanted was to fully experience what happened next. She couldn’t bear it. Bad enough Lau couldn’t avoid it, the visual was more than enough for Blago. Dermid seemed to shrivel and dull, growing quiet before his body went completely, unnaturally still. Nothing remained. No energy, no magic — just like the mob boss in the morgue. He was dead. More than dead, and by her hand.

“Come on.” Jahni glanced back in the direction of Lau’s borrowed car. “Lau’s right. We need to get out of here.”

***

Lau stuck close to her on the trip home; forced them into the back seat together so that Eve sat alone in the front, Felicia next to her. It should have been strange, but it wasn’t. There was no one she would rather be with after something so draining — no one she would rather be with after most things — and while Lau often played it cool, that night seemed to be an exception.

Eve let them out on Yonge, in front of the shop. “Do you want company?” she asked, but the look on Lau’s face seemed to change her mind. “Forget I asked. I’ll park this on the street and bring you the keys tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Lau said, dismissing her. “We’ll be fine.”

And they would be. Blago _knew_ they would be, but as soon as they stumbled out of the car, Lau grasped her hand tightly. For once, Blago thought, Lau might need a few more reassurances before she accepted it.

Blago managed to get Felicia up onto her shoulder with minimal effort, but it had more to do with the little cat being agile than any idea of grace on Blago’s part.

“And if we need anything, we know where to find you. Thanks, you know, for tonight.”

“Not going to lie,” she said around a yawn, “You’re annoying, and a pain to work with, but you got it done. Good work.”

“Thanks,” Blago replied, “I think.” After Eve had pulled away to find parking, Blago turned to Lau. “You staying here tonight?”

“Yes,” she said sharply.

“I’m not arguing,” Blago shrugged, “but I’ll need my hand back to unlock the door, you know?”

Lau frowned and let go reluctantly.

They had left the main floor of the shop a mess of scrying supplies, and Blago could not summon the energy to deal with it. She would keep the store closed the next day, she decided, and trudged upstairs instead.

Her little apartment, normally cozy on a good day, struck Blago as empty and spacious after having guests in the space. Lau wasn’t a guest, though. She had her own keys.

“Are you okay?” Blago dropped down onto the love-seat. “I know it was a lot. But it’s gone. The darkness inside Dermid? I promise, it’s gone. I can feel the difference. Can’t you?”

“You don’t understand.” Lau clenched her hands into fists and stared at Blago from the doorway, wild-eyed. “I felt you _disappear_.”

“Into the shadow?” Blago asked. “It was...terrifying. For a minute there. But I’m fine now.” She would probably have nightmares, but she was safe, and alive, and it was over.

Lau swallowed. “No, I _felt_ you vanish,” she said, and Blago didn’t know how to deal with that. Tears welled up in her eyes, and neither of them were particularly good at feelings. Blago’s own eyes began to well up in sympathy. “It felt like you died,” Lau continued. “Worse than that. Like — like the dead Tanuki in the morgue. I thought you were _gone_ , Blago. I felt it more strongly than anyone else. If it had lasted any longer? I don’t know if I could have come back from that.”

 _Oh_. “Oh,” she replied, not sure what to say. For a moment, inside that dark and empty space, she wondered if she _had_ died; if that had been a small taste of death. She wouldn’t want to do it again any time soon. “I’m okay though,” she said tentatively. “Now. I’m fine, and I’m here. I’m alive. And you’re okay.”

Lau’s shoulders drooped and she nodded, looking small and uncertain.

“You know what though?”

“What?” Lau tried to hide a sniffle unsuccessfully.

“I could really use a hug from my best friend.” Blago patted the seat beside her.

Lau settled onto the couch and wrapped her in a bruisingly tight hug, tucking her face into Blago’s shoulder. Blago let herself let go and sank into it.

Neither one of them would tell anyone about the crying. That was what best friends were for.


	20. Something Cool and Refreshing

The next day the story hit headlines in almost every paper: _Japanese street gang and unknown vigilantes knock out U of T_. _Is crime on campus a problem?_ Photos of the Tanuki, still in their suits and being handcuffed and taken away by the police ran alongside the story.

The police had shown up at Blago’s door for another statement. They had identified Dermid’s body at the scene and apologized to Blago. In their minds, everything had been settled: he’d been working with the Tanuki, possibly harassing her, and died in a brawl resulting in the arrests of most of the Tanuki. Case closed.

“All’s well that ends well,” Lau shrugged. In the bright morning light, she returned to playing cool and untouchable.

“ _They_ didn’t actually attack the university though.” Blago bit her lip. “That was me.” Between that, the blackouts during Pride, and breaking into a funeral home she had spent almost the entire summer becoming a small-time crook instead of a proper witch. Felicia, curled up next to Blago’s hip, groomed herself between her wide-spread toes, unbothered by Blago’s lack of real progress.

“Yeah but that’s just, you know, collateral damage. You think Supergirl gets called out for breaking some lights?” Antonio appeared to be the most exhausted of all of them, and Blago had to remind herself the new moon wasn’t easy on werewolves.

“Absolutely,” Eve countered. “She’s a woman. Of course she’s held to a higher standard than Superman.”

“It is too early for gender politics,” Jahni whined, fed up. “I don’t even like most of you. Why am I here?”

“I don’t know, man,” Antonio started thoughtfully. “You came when I told you Blago and everyone needed help — might be time to own up to the fact that you’re starting to like these guys.”

Jahni glared at him. “Shut up. I came to keep _your_ dumb ass out of trouble. Like I didn’t know it was the new moon?” He scowled and rubbed at his forehead. “Screw this, I’m out of here. I need to eat.”

Blago’s fridge lacked any kind of food other than a 48 pack of eggs, more infused water, and some iced tea. She hadn’t been prepared to have almost everyone she knew show up at her apartment.

Jahni left in a huff, and Blago, still collapsed on her bed in exhaustion, sighed.

“Think I can make friends with him with food?”

“Honey, you can’t cook. You’re going to need a different plan of attack.” Lau had already begun to get ready for the day. She touched up her immaculate lipstick in the bathroom mirror.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you.” Eve glanced at Blago slyly. “He’s much pricklier than I am.”

Blago stuck her tongue out at Eve but didn’t deign to get up. “You’re the one who involved him!”

Eve ignored her and headed for the door. “And it worked out in the end. You should trust me more.” She tapped her hand on the frame. “I better see you at the next meeting.”

“She’ll be there,” Lau answered for her. “We both will.”

Satisfied, Eve left.

Su Jin and Antonio made their excuses, too, until Lau and Blago were alone in the apartment. Good news, because Blago could barely muster the energy to shower.

“So.” Lau spoke up after several minutes of quiet. “Eve mentioned you had something to talk to me about?”

Blago closed her eyes and cursed Eve. She had intentionally half-forgotten the conversation she meant to have with Lau, and the longer she waited the bigger and scarier having it had seemed.

Finally, she sat upright. “Okay, but I need you to let me talk until I’m done. It’s hard, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lau folded her hands in her lap, the picture of patience and receptivity.

“I wanted to train Antonio.”

Lau immediately opened her mouth to respond, snapping it closed again at a glare from Blago. She gestured at Blago as if to say _go on_.

Blago swallowed and turned her eyes to the ceiling. She couldn’t look directly at Lau. “I knew you would do a great job, and that you know more about that stuff than me, but I… I wanted to do it myself. I got excited. I read up on it and everything. And I realize there you had no way of knowing that, because I didn’t say anything, but I guess I’m saying something now.”

The world hadn’t ended.

When she glanced back, Lau didn’t look angry, only thoughtful. Blago continued.

“I want to know the login stuff for the store. I need to — to make my own mistakes and figure stuff out on my own and try things without you. But that doesn’t mean,” she hurried to add, “that I don’t want you around! I just need to try stuff for myself, too.”

Lau waited for a minute then asked, “Is it my turn now?”

Blago nodded, nervous.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something like this,” she said finally. “I took over a lot because you seemed so overwhelmed when we first started, but this past month you finally started taking control. _You_ hired Antonio and you had the idea for the Ouija board party. I’ve never been more proud to have you for my best friend.” She smiled tremulously. “I just — you’ll still need me, right?”

“I’ll _always_ need you!” Blago blurted. “I can’t do this without you! Are we good?”

“We’re better than good,” Lau said, crossing the room and flopping down next to Blago on the bed. “We’re the best.”

***

The vet’s office stood empty for the rest of summer, and Su Jin needed a new job.

“I’m not worried about that,” she said airily over lunch one afternoon. “Something else will come up soon enough. But that’s not why I came.” She set down her lunch and grasped Blago’s hands. “I found you a mentor!”

“You what?” Blago asked blankly. “How? What? How?”

Su Jin laughed. “Someone actually asked me about you the other day, and when I said you needed a mentor they volunteered. The best news — they’re super close!”

“How close?” Blago asked. She currently had something like the world’s shortest commute and was often too lazy to leave the neighbourhood in July. If June had sporadic heat waves, July was a straight month of them.

Instead of answering, Su Jin tugged her to her feet and led her to the front of the store where a moving truck had pulled up outside the vet’s office. _Former_ vet’s office. It would take Blago some time to adjust to that.

“Across the street close,” she said.

Behind the moving truck, someone had parked a small rental car. A woman stepped out and closed the door behind her with a dull thud Blago could hear even across the street. She didn’t look like Blago’s mental image of a witch. She looked sort of like Blago, actually, if older. Maybe in her early 40s with thick, curly black hair. Nothing about her cut-off jeans, Birkenstocks, and brightly patterned button-down screamed _magic_.

The woman assessed the store-front, hands on her hips, and nodded sharply. She turned, meeting Blago’s eyes across the road with uncanny accuracy. She grinned and waved as Blago took a step back in surprise.

Su Jin waved back cheerfully. “Teresinha Ramalho. Teresa. Her specialty is fortune telling, but I think you can learn a lot from her! She’s really something!”

Belatedly, awkwardly, Blago waved back. Teresa’s mouth curved up in response.

***

After what must have been an eternity, the doctors finally agreed Elżbeta could leave the hospital. Along with several of the other people who had suffered from “heat stroke” over the past two weeks, Elżbeta had woken up the same night as the encounter in the Philosopher’s Walk. All the energy Blago had felt cut loose when she untangled the poison in Dermid had, as best she could figure, returned to their original sources – the living ones, at least. Anything else must have dissipated. 

“It’s a miracle,” the doctor at Women’s College said. “Especially for someone her age. We don’t often see such a strong recovery in seniors.”

Blago leaned against the doorjamb while, inside the room, Leija helped Elżbeta dress. “She’s a tough lady,” she replied, nonchalant.

“She must be!”

Thankfully, she didn’t have to make small talk with the doctor much longer because Leija and Elżbeta finished and made their way to the hall, Leija carrying a small weekender bag full of Elżbeta’s things. The flush that had been missing from Elżbeta’s cheeks returned. Blago had missed it. Having visual confirmation of her friend’s recovery steadied her in a way just hearing about her progress couldn’t.

“Am I right to assume you’ve been busy while I slept?” Elżbeta asked when they finally stepped outside. “There’s something different about you.”

It was hot again, but there a cool breeze came up from the south and Blago had remembered her sunglasses for once. “I’ll tell you all about it, if you two are free for lunch?” Blago offered. “My treat.”

“That sounds wonderful, dear.”

Blago took the bag from Leija and treated her two favourite customers to an early lunch.

After all, they had a lot to talk about.

FIN


End file.
